


AUYeah August 2020

by miraculous (milkisande)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AUYeah August, AUYeah August 2020, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Unbeta'd Chaos, love square, lukadrien in chapter 29 lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 50,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25650175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkisande/pseuds/miraculous
Summary: A series of short fics for AUYeah August 2020!Specific summaries are included in the beginning notes of each chapter.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 375
Kudos: 318





	1. o1 - cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is a people-pleaser and Adrien has expensive tastes for coffee.  
> (Or more accurately, Marinette is an Adrien-pleaser and if that means spending her annual salary on rare and expensive cat poop coffee, then so be it.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**cafe**

_in midnights,  
in cups of coffee._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**MARINETTE doesn't exactly know what makes her answer yes.**

Maybe it's from all the overnight shifts she's been taking, or the coffee fumes she's been inhaling daily _finally_ taking a toll on her brain— or maybe it's because he's the most handsome man she's ever seen walk into her cafe _(fact: it's most definitely the third reason)_ , but Marinette can't bring herself to say no to him.

And as things always come with her, a well-intentioned yes easily snowballs into a mess of epically huge proportions. (Though in her defense, she doesn't know that _yet_.)

Marinette plasters on a smile directed at the customer. "Of course we do!" She replies, noticing a little too late that her voice is a notch higher than usual. "It's just that we don't— uh, have it now _!_ Out of stock, _haha_ , y'know how restaurants go… well, maybe you don't, but there's this thing called _supply and demand_ , and… I mean, I don't want to assume you're dumb or anything— in fact, you're probably a lot smarter than me I went to a _fashion university_ , can you believe that? Like, I went abroad and everything. I learned a lot then, but—"

Horrified that she was tripping over her words, Marinette inhales deeply, then wills herself to stop talking. "— so, anyway! We'll probably have it in stock some time soon, so come back then, okay? I'll have a piping hot coffee ready for you to drink with those pretty lips of y— _I mean!_ Maybe I could call you when you can stop by?"

Marinette only has a moment to reflect on how suggestive that may sound before the customer laughs, effectively breaking her thoughts from spiralling any deeper than they already were.

" _Sure_ ," he says, and Marinette briefly wonders if love at first sight has more truth to it than others may believe. "Can I have your phone? I'll put in my number."

His voice is smooth and confident, and Marinette feels the burning need to disappear into a puddle. She hands over her phone gingerly, and takes a moment to appreciate his arms as they type away at the screen.

He returns her phone and smiles. "I'm really lucky I stopped by your cafe. I didn't think there was any place in Paris that had it available," the stranger explains. "Even when I was in America, it was already hard to get a hold of. So thank you…"

The stranger pauses, then looks down at her nametag. " _Marinette_." He nods his head toward her as a gesture of appreciation, then disappears out the door.

The moment he steps out of her cafe, Marinette feels her knees give out and falls to the floor.

And as she always does when she makes a mess of things, she calls her business partner.

"Alya, I may have messed up… _again._ "

.

.

"What the _hell_ is Kopi Luwak coffee?"

It's a valid question, and Marinette has no idea how to answer. After all, she doesn't actually know what it is either. "His order?" She answers back (completely unhelpfully).

Alya sighs, then pinches her forehead. She's the more level-headed one from the two of them, and therefore the one who always has to fix whatever mess Marinette had gotten into at the time. They're at her office— Alya usually handles the more managerial parts of running the business, whereas Marinette is more on the production of food and drinks side — as she inputs the term into the search bar.

The results are quick to show up:

**KOPI LUWAK: THE MOST EXPENSIVE COFFEE IN THE WORLD!**

Their faces consequently morph into ones of expectant horror. Alya clicks on the link, and has to visibly stop the sudden gasp that escapes her throat. The cost of _one_ cup of coffee ranges from $35 to $100, with a single kilogram of beans worth almost $700.

Marinette almost snatches the mouse from her hand as she quickly scrolls through the article, clinging onto the (very likely futile) hope that it's probably someone's terrible idea for a joke.

Unfortunately, it isn't.

Alya's the first to speak up, and it's a simple question. "Was our customer a _millionaire_ or something?!"

"I don't know!" Marinette responds, panicked. "I mean, if he were it'd make sense why he's so attractive but he never said anything!"

"Why did you say we provided this?! We can't serve hundred-dollar coffee, we're barely paying rent as it is!"

" _I know, I know!_ " Marinette repeats, pulling at her hairs in stress. "I just thought it was some other kind of regular coffee! How was I supposed to know he wanted _that?!_ " She extends both her arms to point at the computer screen, then shakes her head. "Only an insane person would pay that much for a drink!"

Then, a pause. And in a quieter tone: "Why can't I meet normal guys? Is a cute boy too much to ask for?"

Alya rolls her eyes, then suddenly puts her hands on the table. One returns to massaging her forehead. "Okay, Marinette. We _can't_ serve this to him. You'll just have to tell him the truth."

"But I can't do that!" Marinette frowns, as if the very notion of telling the truth is impossible. "He'll find out that I lied to him and he'll hate me and start going to another cafe instead!"

"— athen you shouldn't have lied in the first place!" Alya points out, wagging her finger. "It's better to tell him now before he comes here again and finds out for himself!"

Marinette shifts in place, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "Maybe we can find cheaper alternatives somewhere else?" She asks. "I bet if we ask our suppliers, someone's bound to grow those beans—"

"Afraid not, girl," Alya says, turning to look at the computer. "These aren't regular beans. Apparently they're made by—," she suddenly pauses, as her face contorts into one of pure disgust. _"Ew!"_

"What?" Marinette walks toward the computer and leans over, only to feel the need to gag upon reading what came next: _Coffee beans are digested by a civet cat. Their excretions are sold as the rare Kopi Luwak._

"So you mean…" Marinette begins, shivering. "That this coffee is basically… cat poop?"

Alya looks at her solemnly, then nods. _"Yup."_

At that, they finally burst into laughter— though whether it's from entertainment, the absurdity of the situation, or the realization that she's helpless in securing a date with the stranger, or _all of the above_ , Marinette can't tell at all.

.

.

They agree that Marinette tell the truth to the Cute (And Apparently Rich) Coffee Stranger even though it'll very likely ruin all her chances with him. _Nothing is,_ as Alya says, _worth spending hundreds of dollars on cat poop for._

Except that Marinette Dupain-Cheng cannot follow directions.

Instead, she contacts a special supplier internationally and pays almost a thousand dollars total to have a kilogram of the beans at her doorstep not more than a week later. _(Marinette finds comfort in knowing that the coffee doesn't smell like actual feces.)_

She messages the stranger, who left his contact name as a single coffee emoji:

**hey we restocked and are ready to serve tomorrow! can you drop by? :)**

The reply is almost instantaneous:

_**That's great! I'll stop by in the morning. Thank you so much!** _

Marinette reads and rereads that message until she finally falls asleep.

.

.

For the first time since the history of her business, Marinette doesn't arrive to work late.

She doesn't know exactly what time the Coffee Stranger will arrive, but she knows that she doesn't want to miss when he does. Marinette takes the morning shift (something that all her co-workers were understandably surprised by), and she waits.

Coffee Stranger arrives an hour later.

He greets her good morning, and Marinette short-circuits. She reaches out her hand."Hi! I'm Marinette!"

He laughs. "I know," he says. "Maybe you don't remember me? I gave you my number. I'm the one who asked for the _Kopi Luwak_?"

"Sorry. Of course I remember! I could never forget you," she replies— blurting it out, to her complete horror.

Coffee Stranger, thankfully, doesn't look all that bothered. In fact, he looks entertained, more so than anything else. "Great," he responds, the smile still on his face. "Then I'll have that."

Marinette nods, and she gets to work on his coffee. She gets it done quickly (Marinette had practiced making it at home; pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted wonderful), and hands him a perfectly hot cup of coffee. "That'll be… eighty dollars."

She cringes at the cost, but the Coffee Stranger pulls out a hundred dollar bill without hesitance. "Keep the change," he tells her, as he takes a sip. "This is even better than what I've had before! Definitely worth more."

The barista blinks in disbelief. "You really think so?" She asks, to which the stranger enthusiastically nods. Marinette feels her body buzz with joy from the sudden compliment, then she points at the macarons on the counter. "Here," she begins. "It's on the house."

The stranger looks up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Marinette smiles. "It goes great with the coffee," she explains. "I think you'll like the passionfruit flavor. It mixes well with the cat po— the _Kopi Luwak_."

"Perfect," the stranger responds. "Passionfruit's my favourite flavor!" He grins, then pauses. "And… it's Adrien."

"What?"

Coffee Stranger's eyes go up to meet hers. Green. A forest of green she wouldn't mind getting lost in forever. "My name's Adrien," he says, reaching out his hand to hers. "Nice to meet you.."

Marinette suddenly feels her throat dry. She suddenly forgets that she spent a thousand dollars just to make him happy. It _feels_ worth it.

"Nice to meet you too."

.

.

Adrien quickly becomes a regular.

He makes it a point to stop by whenever she's working, sometimes having his coffee to go, and other times staying in to do his work at the cafe. Marinette likes those times the most— and she almost always sneaks in a little macaron or some other snack to help him get through the day. It's small and short exchanges, but they learn more about each other and that's more than enough to make her happy.

She finds out a lot about him. He's kind. He has a sweet tooth. He lives with his best friend, a DJ. He owns a cat. (He clarified, however, that all he does with Plagg's feces is throw it away.) He's rich, but it mostly came as savings from his younger years. He was a teenage model, but nowadays he prefers being the one behind it. (A waste, Marinette thinks, but she respects his decision.) His mom's gone, and he doesn't speak much with his dad. He treasures his friendships more than anything.

Adrien tells her that he treasures their friendship. Marinette's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes when she thinks about how that's all they'll probably be.

She willfully ignores Alya's unimpressed looks and how her bank funds steadily drain into the danger zone.

.

.

At some point, Marinette can't ignore it.

The bank tells her that she can't withdraw anymore, because her funds are almost completely depleted. She paces back and forth her room, visibly stressed. Her current bag of coffee beans would likely last her a few more days— but afterwards, it'll no longer be an option.

Alya says that it's easier to tell the truth.

As per usual, she's right. Marinette promises to herself to talk to Adrien when the coffee's gone completely.

.

.

"I was lying to you."

Marinette decides to be upfront, delivering the statement along with his final cup of coffee.

"What do you mean?" His look is serious, and it's a complete change of pace from how he usually is. It makes her stomach so uncomfortable turns and her knees buckle together in fear.

She sighs. "I was… lying about the coffee." She says it quickly and in one breath, and Adrien's eyebrows knitting together makes it clear that he understood none of it.

"About _what_?"

"The coffee!" Marinette basically shouts, then pulls him aside as they notice the customers pile in line. Another co-worker takes over, and throws them a concerned glance before focusing on their task completely.

Marinette brings Adrien to one of the empty storerooms, and when they settle, he speaks up. "What do you mean _you lied about the coffee_?"

"We never sold _Kopi Luwak_ ," she explains.

"No," Adrien argues. "That's definitely what I've been drinking, though?"

"Yeah," she replies, shaking her head. "But the cafe doesn't _officially_ sell it. I was taking from my savings to buy the coffee abroad and make it for you." As Marinette says the words aloud, she begins to realise how outlandish the very idea was.

"What did you do that for?"

Marinette frowns to herself. "I guess I just didn't want to disappoint you… or something." Her cheeks redden, and she looks down. "I wanted to see you again too… I didn't want our only meeting to be that one time."

Marinette thinks she hears a hint of laughter, but it disappears so quickly she may have imagined it. "You know," Adrien begins. "If you wanted to see me again, you could've just asked." He smiles at her, but it looks almost sheepish. Adrien scratches his head. "I mean, I was really only ordering coffee so I could keep meeting up with you."

_What?_

Marinette fumbles over her words. "You… me… meet _up_?"

Adrien laughs, full-blown now. "Yeah. I thought you were cute. And when I got to know you better, it was just… I couldn't stop myself. I might have caffeine overdose, but I think it's worth it." He turns toward her and wraps his arms around her waist, and Marinette finds a laugh escaping her throat.

"Been having trouble sleeping, then."

"Haven't slept since the day I met you," he replies. "But I don't mind, because you're a dream come true."

Marinette rolls her eyes at how silly it all is. "That's corny."

"I like to think of myself as a corny jokes and puns connoisseur," he explains teasingly. "Maybe you'll let me tell you more over dinner?"

"How forward of you," Marinette laughs, but nods all the same. "I just have to warn you, I'm broke from all the coffee beans you made me buy."

He smiles. "Then I guess I'll have to pay for all our dates from now on?"

Marinette hums, then grins lightly. "I wouldn't be against that."

"Then it's a deal." He replies, suddenly looking at her directly. "Want to seal it?"

She has a vague idea of where he's going with this, and the smile practically blooms on her face. "Yes."

It doesn't take anymore waiting until he kisses her.

_(And she's glad to say that he tastes like roasted coffee beans and a warm fire; not at all like cats or not-so-nice leftovers or anything of that sort.)_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note that i while still be editing this ! heavily ! i only got around to writing it today and wanted to post it on time (it's around 11pm here ,,) so take this for now :( i love the idea but i'll definitely get around to fixing this soon so it won't be as rushed n messy gRrRRR
> 
> but yes hello im alive ! and doing another challenge ! i have work and extracurriculars to worry about but u know what i miss having fun and being creative so here we are :^) also the prompts look rlly fun and i love writing aus intensely so this was a no-brainer ! i hope you'll enjoy this !
> 
> (ps. can you believe this coffee's a real thing ? i've never tried it coz i'm a broke n also who would spend that much on a drink but if you've tried it please tell me how cat poop tastes havskds)
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	2. o2 - wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir has expressive wings, and Marinette can’t quite get enough of it.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**wings**

_look over your shoulder,  
there's an angel in the wings._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **I know you have a habit of falling, but I thought that was only limited to me?"**

It's a corny joke, and a terrible pickup line (not to mention _completely_ inappropriate, given that they're right in the middle of an akuma fight and Chat Noir really could've injured himself if she hadn't flown it to catch her), but it results in the desired effect. He's taken by surprise and left entirely speechless, exploding into a shade of red that almost rivals the color of her own suit.

But then comes her _favorite_ part: his wings, unprompted, spreading out and forward, covering his face the same way someone's hands would in embarrassment. The wings serve as a feeble attempt to shield his blush, though ultimately futile— and really only serves to make him all the more adorable.

They defeat the akuma fairly quickly after that, with Ladybug a lot more invigorated to fight (citizens wonder what could've made her so re-energized), but leaving Chat Noir a fumbling and blushing mess. As soon as the akuma is purified, he pulls her away and flies them over to one of the vacant rooftops overlooking the city.

"What was _that_ about?" Chat Noir finally asks, breathless, as they land on their feet.

Ladybug only serves to look entertained, as she smiles back at him. "What?" She asks, almost a little too innocently. "So you can dish it out but you can't take it?"

Her eyes are twinkling with mischief, and Chat Noir is once again left fumbling for words.

Ever since Ladybug realized that Chat Noir was completely weak to flirting and cheesy pick-up lines, she immediately took the chance to tease him for all the times he's left _her_ in that state. (After all, it's only fair to exact revenge after he's spent almost two years tirelessly punning and using terrible jokes to try to capture her heart. _Not like he failed, though._ )

Chat Noir audibly _hmph_ s, then pouts. "That's not fair."

Ladybug feels a grin threaten to escape her lips, but she keeps her face neutral. "I was just kidding around! You used to do the same thing."

"Yeah, but… _you_... !" He huffs. "I don't get why you're doing this _now_!" Visibly flustered, Chat Noir leans across the railings and crosses his arms. He doesn't notice, but his wings follow suit, curling inward as if they were crossing as well.

 _Cute_.

Ladybug realized early on that Chat Noir had no idea his wings tended to mimic his feelings, so it quickly became her favorite pastime to tease him and watch them subconsciously react without his knowledge.

They flared outward when he was angry or passionate, and curled inward when he was upset or at a loss for words. They hovered over him when he was scared, and sometimes they'd start flapping when he was extremely excited or happy about something. To her complete amusement, Chat Noir would only realize he was flying when he was already ten feet off the ground.

When Ladybug had gotten the miraculous, and consequently, her wings, Tikki explained that they weren't easy to use at all— it entailed having complete confidence and belief in being a miraculous holder; in being a hero. In fact, Marinette herself spent months mastering the art of flying, spending the early part of her superhero career jumping over buildings instead.

Chat Noir, on the other hand— from the beginning, was already at home in his wings. He started flying his first week, entrancing everyone as he zipped through the sky with ease. At the time, it was clear to everyone that she was jealous. Ladybug wasn't sure about being a superhero, but he was, from the very start, already confident that he'd be amazing at it. Chat Noir's wings became an extension of himself, and she always wished that she could have the same relationship with her own.

Ladybug only realized later on that it was because Chat Noir didn't really like himself outside his superhero persona. She's only heard bits and pieces about his real life outside the mask (understandable, given that they can't know anything that might reveal their true identities), but she knew enough to know that he was much more quiet and withdrawn as a civilian; that he couldn't purely express himself the way he could as Chat Noir.

So seeing the superhero completely comfortable and happy with himself as he flew around the city, Ladybug could never hate that about him.

 _Besides_ , his wings' reactions are cute. And she could easily spend the rest of her life discovering all the different ways he expressed himself in that way with no regrets.

Ladybug exhales, before walking forward and smiling at her partner. _"Why am I doing this?"_ She puts her finger to her chin as in a thinking position, then hums... before suddenly planting a kiss on his cheek.

" _You're adorable."_ She finally remarks, watching as the words process in his head.

Chat Noir's twenty feet in the air before he realizes it.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grrr i might ;n; end this challenge early i overestimated my workload n this might be too much hHHHhhHhhH but we'll see ! if ever, i might just make short fics instead of longer ones like the first (more like this length or shorter) ! will also be editing this over time but thank u for the support so far im very grateful there r people who still enjoy this ;u; (see you again tomorrow - hopefully a lot earlier coz im tired of uploading at 11pm im not a night person vnkdf)
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	3. o3 - time travel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir goes on a mission to the past, and it hurts too much.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**time travel**

_this time we had,  
i will hold forever._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**BUNNYX warns him that he shouldn't stay for too long.**

It's a simple mission, after all— get in, ensure Master Fu meets Marinette that day on the street, and him outside the school, and that the two of them receive their Miraculous. All he really has to do is maybe put up a roadblock or a stop sign, but he can't find it in himself to leave so soon.

Instead, Adrien Agreste walks toward the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

" _What are you doing?"_ Bunnyx's voice rings in his ear— a telepathic talent she'd developed over years of training in costume (and one that he personally finds quite irritating).

"Calm down," he replies instead. "This is all part of the plan."

"No, Chat, the plan is that you get _Master Fu_ to the bakery. Not you." She sighs, and her voice shifts to a softer tone. "Look, Adrien, I know you want to see her but you can't do this. It's too dangerous."

Adrien's eyes shift downward, and he takes a deep breath in. "I won't do anything," he says. "I swear. Besides, I know for a fact that she won't be there yet." He laughs softly to himself. "It's too early; she'll still be asleep."

"But we can't take that risk. What if her parents recognize you?"

"It's been almost _fifteen years_ , Alix. I doubt they'll recognize me now. And at this point in time, I haven't even _met_ them yet." Adrien tips his shades downward, and shifts the tie along his black trenchcoat. "I'm disguised, too. Trust me, I just need to order something to get this plan moving, okay?"

He hears her sigh, audibly exhausted, but she caves. "Fine," Bunnyx finally says. "Just be quick, alright? And no small talk either." Her voice quiets down. "This is important. Please don't do anything to jeopardize this."

"Thank you," Adrien replies. There's still a lot of things left unsaid, things that hang heavily in the air, but they choose to ignore it.

Now isn't the time.

He enters the bakery.

.

.

It's the smell that hits him first—

That unique blend of scents from freshly-baked goods and sweets that waft pleasantly across the room. Sure, the bakery still stands years into the future (something he's always been thankful), but there's something new and at the same time nostalgic about entering the place it was years before.

And he sees them: a small, tout, woman lightheartedly berating her husband, an almost-gigantic man who would've been intimidating if not for his kind smile and altogether too-sweet demeanour.

Adrien's mind flashes back to a few years later, with him bowing down to them, nervously asking for their blessing to have their daughter's hand in marriage.

Being held in the token Dupain-Cheng family hug.

His mind's distracted as a familiar voice rings through the store: "Well hello there, what can I get for you today?"

"Ah," he coughs. "I'll take anything you recommend. I'm not really in the mood for anything specific."

The small lady nods as she looks along the shelf of goods, before retrieving a single tray of macarons from the fridge. They're bright pink, and he recognizes them as soon as they enter his sight.

They're _hers_. _She_ made them.

"Now these aren't actually _our_ creations, but our daughter, who's extremely talented at great at baking, is—,"

"No need," he replies, quickly retrieving his wallet. "I'll take it."

(It takes a few minutes for him to retrieve bills that were still used in the period he was in, but he does have enough.)

"Great! Then I'll get that right out for you." She smiles brightly. "Will you be eating it on the way out?"

"Yes, thanks Miss Dupain-Cheng."

As soon as the statement escapes his mouth, they both pause in surprise— Adrien, even more so. " _I mean_ , that is you, right? Since this is the Dupain-Cheng bakery…"

To his relief, the adult woman simply smiles at him. "You're right. I'm Sabine," she replies. "And this is a family-owned business. You've heard of us, then?"

Adrien scratches his head. "I've heard that your family makes the best sweets in all of Paris."

Sabine laughs. "Well, I don't know about that." She says easily, before winking. "But I'm glad someone seems to enjoy our food to that level."

He nods along absentmindedly. "So even your daughter bakes, then? That must be great."

"It is!" Sabine replies, softly humming along as she carefully reheats the macaron. "She helps out sometimes— that is, if she wakes up on time." The parent laughs to herself, suddenly looks at him, then wonders aloud. "Do you have kids?"

Adrien smiles back at her, though it's a little less genuine. "I wish I could've been so lucky, but no, unfortunately."

"Oh," Sabine replies, sympathetic. "Sorry if I was intruding."

"No, no," Adrien's quick to reply. "It's okay! I _did_ want kids— me and my wife, but we were never blessed with them."

"Well," Sabine hums. "It's not too late to keep trying! Marinette… my daughter, she was a little surprise to our family. Our little miracle."

Hearing her name escape her mother's lips is a little too much to handle.

_A flash of her father, oftentimes towering, hunched downward, head buried in his hands, never looking smaller than he'd ever been then. Her mother's aghast face, kneeling beside him, holding onto his frame like it was the end of the world._

_(And maybe it was. He felt like it was. They all did.)_

Adrien swallows down the sudden rush of emotion, and instead plasters on a happy expression. "I'd love to try again. It's everything we ever wanted."

"Then I wish both of you luck." Sabine smiles, kind, full of good intent, as she passes him two macarons— one ready-to-eat, and the other neatly tied into a box. "For your wife," she winks. "I hope you'll come again."

Adrien smiles, again, and whispers, "thanks," before immediately walking away.

Bunnyx was right, after all. It was too much.

.

.

After his visit at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, Adrien immediately makes his way to Master Fu.

The experience is a whole other mess of emotions— he wonders if it's because he's been thrown so far into the past, but the memory of their guardian sacrificing himself to save them becomes a fresh wound, and he actively has to shake off the feeling.

He doesn't introduce himself, of course; it's too risky, but he finds a way to catch the older man's attention.

With Marinette's macarons.

(Even now, she still finds a way to help him. It's a strange feeling, like she's right there, working with him to complete the mission together.)

As Master Fu steps outside his shop, Adrien strategically walks past, bumping into him as they both tumble into the ground; dropping the macaron box as near as he can to the guardian.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Please don't worry, it's okay." Master Fu's quick to respond— quite agile for his age, and easily picks himself back up. He bends down and picks up the box, offering it to the younger male. "Here, I believe this is yours?"

"Oh, thank you so much," Adrien replies, taking it into his hand. "The Dupain-Cheng's have the best sweets in town; it'd be a waste if they were ruined."

"The Dupain-Chengs…." Master Fu hums, leaning over his cane as if in thought. "That's the bakery in _Rue Gotlib_ , is it?"

"Yes, I love what they make there," Adrien continues, as if hooking in bait. "It tastes delicious—," then, as if in thought, he suddenly returns the box. "Please, try some."

"No, that's alright…"

"I insist," Adrien presses on. "Take it as my apology for bumping into you."

"Well, I'm not one to say no to a free meal," Master Fu laughs, then pops the macaron into his mouth in one gulp. His face lights up almost immediately. "That _is_ lovely! And they're currently open?"

Adrien smiles. This was _child's play_. "Yes, just got these fresh off the oven earlier today." Then, he drops the hint. "These macarons are actually made by the family's daughter— she seems really sweet, and talented too."

"A daughter, hm?" Master Fu looks deep in thought, then nods to himself. "Then, maybe I should order a box for myself. Thank you, sir…"

"Just a friendly stranger passing by," Adrien finishes on for him. Master Fu nods in understanding. (If anything, _he_ was the expert on secret identities, after all.)

"Maybe you'll allow me to treat you some time? I'm sure that macaron was meant for someone else."

"Maybe in the future," Adrien responds, still smiling at him. "And it's completely okay— I don't think she could've eaten them, anyway."

At that, he excuses himself, making up some half-baked excuse about having somewhere else to be.

Adrien doesn't really remember.

His heart feels heavy and it's becoming so much more than he can handle.

He doesn't belong here.

_Not anymore._

.

.

The next, and final, task involves much less talking— simply needing to follow Master Fu around and ensure that the Miraculous end up in their hands.

Adrien's relieved to find that he doesn't have to do much to get his own Miraculous, seeing the guardian quickly end up at their school after finding out about Marinette.

He watches with slight awe as the younger him helps Master Fu without a moment's notice, with his expression souring as he's escorted back into the limousine.

Things were never easy back then. (They never got easier even after he was 'free'— but Marinette always had a way of making things seem much better than they were. She _always_ knew what to say.)

As soon as the Younger Adrien leaves, Bunnyx's voice rings in his ear. "Good job, Chat. Now it's time to go."

"Wait."

"What do you mean _wait_ , it's done. The Miraculous are in the right hands. You need to go."

" _Wait."_

His voice is soft, almost too quiet to be heard, but it's so set and determined that even Bunnyx pauses in her tracks.

Then: "I just want to see one thing."

"Adrien, you know I can't…"

"Please." He whispers it, but she can hear the crack in his voice. Hear the crack in his heart. "I just want to _see_ her."

Bunnyx sighs.

"How long do you need?"

"Just give me the end of the day."

.

.

Adrien spends the rest of the afternoon walking around Paris.

It's strange, being somewhere so familiar yet unfamiliar, somewhere so new yet so nostalgic, all at the same time. He decides to stay away from the school and all the places he knows she'll be, simply because he's not ready.

_Not yet._

_Just a few more hours._

.

.

It's raining.

Adrien watches from outside, as the dark clouds serve well to cover his grown frame. Students are walking outside as the bell signals the end of classes for the day, and he waits.

He waits until they slowly fill out until only two people are left in the entire school building.

_He's not sure if he's ready for this._

She walks out of the building.

 _He_ _ **knows**_ _he's not ready for this_.

Adrien almost slips over the concrete. It feels like the wind's knocked out of his lungs; seeing her all over again, he can't help but gasp for air. She was right there. Standing plainly like there wasn't anything wrong in the world.

Like she hadn't destroyed his own.

He has to stop himself from running to her. From confirming for himself that she isn't fake; not another figment of his imagination coming to haunt him after months of nightmares and night terrors.

Instead, he breathes in.

And he waits, as a Younger Him walks next to her.

Adrien's not close enough to hear their exchange, but it doesn't matter because he already knows those words by heart. Their first conversation forever carved into his memory as the first time he ever spoke with his soulmate.

He watches as his younger self extends his hand to give her umbrella, and how she reaches out to take it.

"You know, I felt something when our hands touched," Adrien begins, fully aware that Bunnyx was watching the whole spectacle from her burrow. "I just… I didn't know what it was yet. It was a new feeling… but I know my body knew before my mind did: that I had met my soulmate."

He laughs as the umbrella closes over Marinette's head.

"Apparently _that_ was when she fell in love with me." Adrien continues, smiling forlornly. "Can you believe that? No normal person would fall in love with someone that quickly. We spoke less than a hundred words to each other. And we _just_ met."

He pauses, watching as the Younger Him drives away, and as Tikki flies out from Marinette's bag to speak with her.

"But I think subconsciously, she knew too. That we were meant-to-be. That I loved her, and that she loved me. We just didn't know it at the time… not yet."

The tear rolls down Adrien's face before he can stop it.

Then they don't stop at all.

A torrent of tears, unstoppable. He can't breathe. He can't speak. He can't stand. He exhales deeply, and desperately tries to rub away the sadness. The grief. The _loss_.

Adrien only realizes he's no longer in the past when Bunnyx's arms wrap around his body.

He feels lost.

And Marinette's no longer there to guide him.

.

.

Adrien kneels down onto the soil, and sets down a bouquet of flowers.

He lights a candle— scented, sweet, and lays it on the grass.

_**Marinette Dupain-Cheng** _

"I miss you."

_Beloved friend, daughter, and wife._

"I love you."

_Our Everyday Ladybug._

"I'll never forget you."

_May she rest in peace._

"Goodbye."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said it'd be short but i love time travel aus so ! here we go again ! (i did this same prompt with the same love square ship in the last chapter of marichat may if youre interested ;u;) both are kinda angsty i think but this ended up way more depressing than it was meant to be ,, hsdkjfs
> 
> i'll leave it up to imagination on how ladybug d-worded (also for my own peace of mind so i can stop thinking abt them suffering) ! also the prompt was taken from a prompts account on tumblr ! (i dont really remember the acc but i'll update this when i do) - anw as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	4. o4 - bender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien sneaks into a pro-bending match, and promptly does what any normal audience member would do: fall in love with one of the benders.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**bender**

_you are my fire,  
the one desire._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE first pro-bending match Adrien ever attends, coincidentally, is the day of Ladybug's debut.**

She comes in with a no-name group of three, during one of the newbie matches held outside the official tournament. Her whole team wears masks— hiding their respective identities. Adrien hears the couple next to him whisper about how it's a little obnoxious, but he personally finds it to be one of the coolest things he's ever seen. (And he's not one to talk, either; not with his oversized hat and dark coat, to make sure nobody recognizes him.)

The team's opponents for this match are the Ba Sing Se Badgermoles, a rather popular trio who's already made a name for themselves as a powerful group of benders. It's expected to be an easy win, so there aren't many people out at the stands, but it's the only day Adrien could sneak out of the house and see one of the competitions live— so he takes a seat anyway.

He doesn't think much will happen; nobody does, really… _until the match starts_.

And the first round is over as soon as it begins.

Without hesitation, and almost _perfect_ precision, three strong blasts of water are immediately thrown at the opposing team's direction, as they quickly fall over the edge.

Nobody speaks.

It's only the sudden ring of the gongs that break everyone out of their trance. The announcer scrambles to speak: "And that's a wrap on the first round! In only a few seconds flat, this no-name team takes the win! I'm just as surprised as you all are folks, but it seems like this lady's someone to watch out for." Then, a sudden pause. "What's your name, girl?"

The waterbender flinches with sudden surprise— almost nothing like the girl who seemed like she was out to kill only a few moments ago. One of her teammates, a brunette firebender, nudges her, as she's forced to speak.

"I— uh," she pauses, as if fumbling over her words. Then: "Ladybug. And this is my team— Rena Rouge," she gestures at the girl next to her, then to the other side. "And Carapace."

"Got a name for that little team of yours, Miss… Ladybug?"

It's not all that common anymore for benders to use aliases in fighting matches, as they did from bending tournaments way back in the past, but Adrien likes it.

Ladybug, especially. _It suits her_.

"Uh…" she pauses, again, evidently at a loss. "We, uh…"

The announcer seems to take pity on her, and decides to continue on. "Well, you can go ahead and think of it later. But you better think of one soon, because your fans will need something to call you in the future!"

(And he's right— he's absolutely right, because Adrien's quite sure he's found his newest favorite pro-bending team.)

With that statement, however, the next round commences.

The other team is more prepared, this time, and block off her advances; but it seems her teammates are equally as talented— with Rena's blasts of flames and the earthen discs Carapace throws in their direction— the opponents are quickly taken aback.

There's no third battle, because the match is already set.

"And there you have it, folks! We have our winner— this anonymous team can't be described as anything but _miraculous_ for their victory tonight. We think today a legend in the history of pro-bending was born today… give it up for this merry band of benders, led by Miss Ladybug!"

Adrien's standing up and cheering, applauding them, before he realizes it. It's _amazing_ , pro-bending's _amazing_ , and _she's amazing._

The trio looks around the arena, evidently proud of themselves, as Rena jumps into the arms of her only other male teammate. Adrien briefly wonders to himself if they're dating; it sure seems like it— as Ladybug takes it upon herself to scan the audience.

There's a look of evident surprise on her face, but it's complemented by a bright smile that takes him aback. When Ladybug's stare reaches the part of the stand he's in, Adrien almost swears that they make eye contact.

It's brief, maybe only for a second, or maybe it didn't happen at all, but whatever the case, it was from that moment on his heart was already hers for the taking.

.

.

"I actually _did_ see you back then, you know."

As Adrien recounts the first time they meet, Marinette listens with curious amusement. She laughs when he suddenly turns to her, evidently interested at the sudden piece of information.

"What do you mean?"

"That night at the arena," She continues, leaning her head over to his shoulder. "It was only for a minute, but I could never forget you. Even with that _insane_ disguise of yours—," Marinette giggles, "it wasn't hard to identify the supposed _prince_ of the Fire Nation."

Adrien pouts. "Was my disguisethatbad?"

"Terrible," she points out easily. "But it was cute, anyway. After that, I couldn't stop thinking about you. And when you ended up substituting for Rena that one time, well that… _that_ was fate working with us."

Adrien shifts his head so he can nuzzle closer to her, easily looping his hand in hers. "Well, I guess you fell for me.."

"Don't you dare say it."

" _Hook, line, and sinker."_

Marinette pushes him away at that, shaking her head. "Oh come on, that's not even clever!" She argues. "I may be a waterbender but I don't meet with fish all that often."

"Aw, milady, _water_ you so upset about? Why not just _go with the flow_?"

She rolls her eyes, then smirks. "You're just jealous that I'm _hotter_ than you, huh?"

"Now that… was terrible."

"Guess you can't handle that sick _burn_?"

"Marinette, please stop—"

"No way, I'm on _fire_ right now!"

"Okay, no, these are terrible, you are terrible at the art of punning, so I'm going to go ahead and leave…"

"No, no, _fine!_ Come on, we have to get ready."

"For what?"

"Our _match_." Marinette grins. "Get it? Like a _matchstick?_ "

Adrien exhales deeply.

"I miss my non-punning girlfriend." He sighs, as he carefully grabs his mask and puts it across his face.

"You're just jealous that I have all the _heat_." She replies jokingly, before running after him and taking his hand. "Now are you ready for this?"

Chat Noir smiles, turning back to her. "This'll be a _blast_."

"Oh, so you can make puns and _I_ can't?"

"That's because I'm not terrible at it."

He only offers her a teasing grin, before they begin to walk out of the dark hallway.

The lights are blinding, and the noise from excited chatter bounces all over the arena.

" **Welcome to what we've all been waiting for, the pro-bending finals! Now give it up for everyone's all-time favorite hero team…** _ **The Miraculous Ladybugs!"**_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things we will be conveniently ignoring: that the challenge probably meant a bender as an outdoor spree with friends (bc i was uninspired by that, prompts are up to interpretation, and i miss atla Very Much), that the team name Miraculous Ladybugs is a terrible name (which only made it to the final cut coz ,, naming things is Hard so suggestions are very welcome !), that i used backstreet boys as my opening lyrics (i still have no regrets), and that i have never watched lok past the first few episodes so i'm basically a fraud (aka i was extremely bitter that they apparently did not mention my lord and saviors sokka and suki there so i did not finish it - feel free 2 bash or fite me) !
> 
> but anyway i love this au a lot im definitely considering making it a full-on fic (tho i'll have to actually watch lok so i'll do worldbuilding justice so its ,,, eHHhhHh) . i jus have many ideas for this and i think writing more abt it would be Neat ! a single chapter in a challenge will not do it justice . but yes, as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～♡_


	5. o5 - bed sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is tired of Chat Noir sleeping on her bed, so she finds an alternative.  
> (Unfortunately, there is no actual bed sharing.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**bed sharing**

_bed! bed! i couldn't go to bed,  
my head's too light to try to set it down._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**MARINETTE knows who's knocking at her balcony door before they even introduce themselves.**

_Because only one person ever knocks on her balcony door._

She sighs, not even spending a moment's hesitation before shouting out, _"it's open!"_ , to whoever's outside. If Marinette's correct, and she knows she is, then he's not quite worth leaving the comfort of her bed for. And besides— she was finally getting to the good part of what she was reading.

The sudden vision of black that enters her sight only confirms her suspicions.

Marinette doesn't bother looking up from her book. "What do you want, Chat?"

Chat Noir laughs at her curt response, easily walking over to pick the book from her hands. " _Meowch_ , what's got you so cold, huh, Marinette?" He asks, pointedly ignoring her irritated stare. "Didn't you _mew_ ss me?"

She takes the book back and rolls her eyes. "You'd have to actually leave for me to miss you."

"I did leave!"

"Yeah," Marinette replies dryly. "Last night. And the night before that. _And_ the night before that. What does Ladybug think of you always stopping by here instead of patrolling like she asked, huh?"

"It's not like I'm not doing my job," Chat Noir shoots back, making it a point to sit next to her on the bed. "I'm protecting the innocent citizens," he points out, gesturing towards her. "Like you."

Marinette scoffs, then pushes him off. " _Please_ , I can protect myself."

"Sure," he begins, an unentertained expression on his face as he tries to get himself back up. "But you can't do it in the same way a superhero like I can."

_Ha! If he only knew._

Undaunted by his statement, Marinette puts her book down then peers over him at the edge. There's a twinkle in her eye, and a clearly amused look adorning her features. "Ah yes, how lucky am _I_ that one of the superheroes of Paris stops by my house every night—," Chat Noir looks proud of himself, "— to steal my snacks, hog my bed, and basically regularly annoy and stop me from enjoying my peace and quiet! _Like a regular housecat._ "

Chat Noir tries to protest, but the bar of chocolate he had swiped from her study desk was more than enough proof for the two of them to know that she wasn't wrong.

Instead, he embraces it.

"Then please let me back on your bed, my _owner_?"

Marinette shivers. In distaste. "Ew. Gross. Never call me that again," she warns him, before shrugging to herself. "And besides, I got you a gift."

 _"Really!?"_ (The sudden excitement surprises Marinette, and she could almost swear that she saw his tail belt wag at the sudden news.)

Instead, she smiles and kneels down, before pulling out an air mattress from underneath her own bed. It's plain and black (and frankly doesn't look all that comfy), but they both know what it's coming to.

"I'm not going to—"

"Stay here!" Marinette says easily, patting the mattress next to her. "I got it just for you! Aren't you happy?"

Chat Noir's look of displeasure speaks volumes. Marinette simply decides that she cannot hear it.

"No way."

_"Why not!?"_

"Because it doesn't look comfy at all!" He argues, before adopting an almost completely whiny tone. "Your bed is so much better!"

"And it's only for _one person_ , so if you want to stay here, then you have no choice but to stick with it."

At that, Marinette smiles triumphantly, before climbing onto her own bed and picking up her book again. "Now don't bother me, I'm at the good part and you talking will ruin it."

Chat Noir sighs, but defeated, crawls onto the mattress.

It almost gives under his weight.

_Uncomfy._

.

.

Chat Noir likes watching Marinette read.

It's the way that she becomes completely obsessed with it, almost as if all her surroundings (unfortunately including him) simply melted away. He loves her expressions, however, most of all— how she bites her lips during suspenseful scenes, knits her eyebrows together when a page makes her angry, and quickly wipes her face with her sleeve whenever she comes across a moment that's rather emotional makes her emotional. (Marinette makes it a point to never cry in front of him— probably to exert some sense of superiority over him. _Cute_.)

However, when Marinette suddenly sits up, leaning closer, eyes widening… those are the scenes that she's excited for the most. The scenes that make or break the whole book. The ones that she'll remember forever. And the ones that she'd absolutely commit murder if she were interrupted for.

So of course, it's at that exact moment Chat Noir grabs her arm and pulls her over.

As expected, she basically screams as she rolls downward, making face-to-face contact with the air mattress she supplied him with.

Completely unexpected, however, is for Marinette's sudden weight to make so much impact that he's suddenly bounced upward…

And consequently thrown off the bed, face-planting the hero onto the floor of her room.

"What the _hell_ was that for?" Marinette almost screeches, as she begins to get her bearings. "I was on the page where he almost confessed his love to her!"

Chat Noir only looks dazed— still in shock over suddenly being thrown into the air.

He looks at her, then offers a lopsided smile.

"You wouldn't share the bed."

"You want the bed?" Marinette asks, seething, as she begins to grab at the mattress. He's surprised to see that her body can hold the weight.

She inches closer to him, as the mattress— and Marinette— begin to look more threatening.

_"Then I'll give you the bed."_

"NO, MARI, WAIT—!"

And without a moment's notice, Chat Noir's met with a face full of mattress.

Then pillow, and blanket, and bedsheet.

The next time Chat Noir tries to come over, Marinette locks the door.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate it here bYE ,, a lot suddenly came up today so i had to make this short ;n; also brain rot ideas that went all over the place bc later on in the fic i realized i wanted to go in another direction hHhhH !
> 
> anw no more self-hate have yall ever used an air mattress ? we used to have one when i was little and my family had a mean obsession of waking me up by yeeting me off the bed when they jumped on it . NOT FUN TIMES D: but i kinda find myself missing it sometimes lmao ,, so anyway :
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～♡_


	6. o6 - enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien love each other. Ladybug and Chat Noir hate each other. Things go about as well as expected.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**enemies**

_i am superman,  
and i know what's happenin'._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **AND he keeps making these** _ **infuriating**_ **jokes that aren't even that funny!"**

Marinette huffs as she takes a box of camembert to put in the freezer. She spares her partner a passing glance of confusion, before raising it up. "I thought we agreed that we should start buying less of these?"

Adrien grins, somewhat nervously, as he takes the box from her hands. "What can I say? I just love my cheese!"

"But why _this_ kind? It's expensive," Marinette rebuts, shaking her head. "And it smells gross. I just don't get why you like them that much." She leans toward him and pinches her nose, scrunching it in evident distaste. "See, you're starting to smell already!"

"It's not _that_ bad," Adrien tries to reason with her, surprisingly undaunted by the scent beginning to fill the room. Marinette briefly wonders how he manages to keep a straight face the whole time, but decides that it's just one of those strange quirks of his that she hadn't known about until they moved in together.

(Other traits which fell under that list included his tendency to nap a lot, his frequency to disappear at random moments in time, and most of all, his extremely weird habit of acting like a cat, _especially_ when he wasn't aware of it— something Marinette would honestly find adorable if it didn't remind her so much of a certain someone that got on her nerves almost a hundred percent of the time.)

Marinette sighs to herself, finally nodding in defeat. "Fine," she finally mutters. "But you're showering before you come to bed, okay?"

Adrien nods enthusiastically, putting the camembert down to suddenly grab her by the waist and press a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, Mari."

Fortunately, after years of being together, Marinette's learned how _not_ to explode into scarlet whenever he shows even the barest minimum of affection.

Doesn't stop the light blush that dusts her cheeks afterward, though.

"So you were talking about this workmate of yours?" Adrien finally asks, as Marinette feels the anger rush back in her veins. She bites her cheek, then exhaustedly runs a hand through her hair.

"It's just… I don't get him at all!" Marinette whines. "It feels like the purpose of his whole existence is to make _mine_ as inconvenient as possible. And it's not just me that he's bothering, it's _everyone_! How cruel do you have to be to actively play a part in trying to make everyone's lives miserable?"

Adrien hugs her closer to him, putting his chin atop her head. "Sounds like a pain."

"You have no idea," she mumbles. "Chat — _I mean_ , whenever we chat, it's like everything he says is just to spite me! He keeps making jokes whenever we meet and they're not even that clever!"

"I don't understand why you don't just quit then," Adrien finally says, after a long pause. "We're earning enough money, so I don't know why you took on this extra job in the first place."

"It's not like I don't want to quit!" Marinette tries to protest, before immediately shutting up as the words leave her mouth. "I just… can't," she finally confesses. "And it's not like _you_ can talk. You have your mysterious extra work too."

Adrien laughs. "I have to pay for that camembert somehow, right?"

"That sounds like a problem that could be easily fixed if you just _stopped buying it_ ," Marinette points out, as she starts to giggle herself. "How's work, anyway? That co-worker of yours still bothering you?"

At that point, it's Adrien's turn to heave a sigh of exhaustion. "Bothering is too _small_ to describe what she's doing to me," he says, and though she can't see it, Marinette can practically imagine the annoyed expression on his face. "She keeps ruining all my plans! Things I've spent so much time trying to perfect, she ends up destroying just like _that_!"

"That's awful," Marinette frowns, hugging him closer. "I can't believe anyone would actually do that? How is anyone okay with what she's doing to you!?"

"Actually, a _lot_ of people are on her side," Adrien replies, a tone of evident distaste dripping from his tongue. "But they just don't know better, and I can't blame them for that. It's just… I've tried explaining to _her_ what I've been doing, and she still insists that I'm in the wrong!"

With that, Adrien lets her go, walking over to the counter as he combs back his hair in stress. Marinette quickly moves next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and linking their hands together. "Well, I'm sure they'll find out the truth someday," she finally says. "And for now, I'm glad you're doing what's right." She looks up at him, then presses a shy kiss to his cheek. "My personal superhero."

"Who needs Ladybug, right?" Adrien teases.

"Believe me when I say she's not all that," Marinette laughs, as if it were an inside joke. (And it was; Adrien just didn't know the punchline). "So what do you say that we stop thinking about people who aren't worth our time, and spend time with people that do? Let's have lunch together, tomorrow?"

Adrien looks down at their linked hands, then beams at her proposition. "I love you, Marinette."

She's practically glowing. "I love you too!"

.

.

"I never thought I could _hate_ anyone until I met you."

"Aw, milady, I'm flattered that you've thought of me!"

Ladybug seethes as Chat Noir easily dodges her attacks, at some point even yawning just to spite her. She attempts to lunge at him, only for the latter to press his baton and jump to another building. "I'm not that attracted to girls throwing themselves at me, sorry!"

" _Please_ , like I'd ever throw myself at you." She scoffs, quickly making chase as he runs away from her grasp. "And I doubt you've had any girl actually have a crush on you."

"I was actually pretty popular in my day!" Chat Noir shouts back, leaping over the rooftops of random civilians. "Even have a steady girlfriend now, if you could believe it!"

"How unlucky."

"For you?"

Ladybug rolls her eyes. " _For the girl._ "

"What about you, then?" Chat Noir begins to ask, looking back at the irritated superheroine. "Are you going to go ahead and ruin this unmistakable chemistry between us?"

"What chemistry? If anything, our relationship's best described as _toxic_." She points dryly, before hooking her yoyo to one of the taller buildings, pulling herself over and suddenly appearing before him. Ladybug quickly sticks her leg outward, and before Chat Noir can make sense of what's happening, trips him over as he's sent tumbling over to one of the rooftops.

As she stands over him, victorious, Ladybug speaks: "And I have a boyfriend."

Chat Noir only smirks.

"My condolences to the guy."

Then he shouts _cataclysm!_ , as the floor below them breaks into pieces, as Ladybug's sent tumbling down while Chat Noir uses the baton to keep himself in the air, as he gracefully lands onto the next building. She tries to jump over, realizing only a little too late that her leg's caught in the wires.

He offers her a catlike grin. "You know, we'd be unstoppable if you just joined me! We'd be a _purr_ fect team."

"I'll never join the side of evil!"

"And as I've told you before, I'm _not_ evil," Chat Noir shouts back at her, shaking his head. "Do you ever listen to me?"

"There's no way that you can persuade me of that." Ladybug only responds, then gestures to the destroyed architecture around her. "You just _destroyed_ a whole building! People could've gotten hurt!"

"Don't you mean _purr_ suasion?" Chat Noir teases. "Besides, this building was empty. It's a hub for illegal activity at night, so nobody's here in the morning. And now, criminals have nowhere to do their shady dealings. I honestly think I did you a favor!"

"You must be extremely simple if you think _that_ would stop criminals from acting," Ladybug says, rubbing at her forehead. "Besides, aren't they your comrades or something?"

"Me!? _Please_ , I work alone," Chat Noir points out. "And I'd never stoop down to their level."

"Destroying property and scaring the people of Paris not that bad for you, then?"

"Believe me, I could be doing much worse."

"But you're not!"

Chat Noir sighs. "Just know that I'm doing my best in my own way," he shrugs. "And you don't have to believe me." The sudden beep of his phone distracts the conversation. "But for now, I have to go."

"Wait, _Chat Noir_ —"

"Until next time, milady!" He winks. "It was _paw_ sitevely a pleasure to see you again."

"Don't you _dare_ leave, we're not finished—"

"Bye!"

When Ladybug finally manages to free herself, Chat Noir's already gone. She debates upon chasing after him, but the beep on her own phone reminds her of a certain appointment.

One she was _certainly_ already late for.

Ladybug spends the next few minutes zooming across Paris to get to her apartment on time.

.

.

When Marinette arrives, Adrien's already in the kitchen.

He smiles at her.

_How she needed to see that smile today._

"Rough time at work, then?"

Marinette exhales deeply.

"As usual."

"But at least you have me."

"At least I have you!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rushed ending but this was v fun to write ! if my writing is unclear, the premise is basically that marinette and adrien are dating and live together, but they're also supers in secret - ladybug is paris' hero, while chat noir is widely regarded as the villain (even if it's not that black n white) ! i feel like ive been saying this a lot but id love to write more about this in the future hskdfs :')
> 
> anyway, gonna keep this short coz im uploading kinda late but as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	7. o7 - royalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette becomes a princess and Adrien a mere palace servant, if only for a night. (And a night, really, is all they need.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**royalty**

_i was a girl in a village doing alright,  
then i became a princess overnight!_

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **PRINCESS Kagami, are you feeling well?** You're looking quite pale, and I fear that you might have caught a cold."

"Oh no… I'm fine! I promise, you see?" She brings her hand up to her forehead. "Not hot at all! I'm right as rain, yes sir! I mean, _ma'am!_ No problems over here!"

Sir D'Argencourt spares her a confused glance, but nods all the same. "Right, then…," he frowns lightly. "Are you confident? You're not quite acting like yourself, maybe I should send for your mother…"

"No, _don't_!" She almost shrieks, shrinking back as the other guests look at them in curiosity. "My, uh, mother need not hear about this. This is only a small matter, and I don't think that we should bother her with this? You know how Quee— _mother_ gets when her time is wasted…"

"Ah," he begins, nervously adjusting his collar. "Quite right. Queen Tomoe must have her hands full already… and you do seem to be looking much better."

"Exactly!" She replies, an evidently awkward smile on her face. "Now, I must excuse myself, Sir D'Argan… D'Arjen…," she pauses, somewhat horrified, before immediately correcting herself. "That is to say, I'll just go ahead and mingle now! See you!"

She basically books it outside, before he can ask her any follow-up questions.

As soon as she's alone and a good distance away from any company, Marinette sighs, visibly exhausted, as she leans over the balcony railings.

This was, _indeed_ , a terrible idea.

She looks down at the vivid red and gold ballgown draped over her frame, and itches to take it off. Her hair is carefully styled atop her head, and Marinette only wishes it away. The mask over her eyes is perched upon her nose, and the only thing she really wants to do is throw and be rid of it completely.

This… _royal_ life was never meant for her.

If Kagami hadn't looked so desperate when she had asked, then Marinette would never have agreed to this in the first place. Working in the palace, she knew all too well the difficulties and challenges that the princess faced as heir apparent to the throne. Kagami was longing for some time alone, and a ball without her mother's supervision seemed to be the perfect opportunity to do so.

" _Besides,"_ Marinette recalls her royal friend saying. " _It's_ _ **his**_ _party."_

Even without directly calling him by name, they both clearly know who _he_ is— only because there really is only one _he_ that Marinette was interested in.

The crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, _Adrien_.

And consequently, the young man she— and very likely the entire continent, has fallen in love with.

Having the opportunity to meet, much less _talk_ to Adrien was already a far-off dream. If not for their completely different statuses in life, the fact of the matter was that almost _nobody_ was granted an audience with the prince. His father, the mysterious king, had shut in his son from the outside world; sheltering him, as he put it, from harm's way. (Though, in all honesty, Marinette wondered if that practice worked more in his favor rather than his son's).

In any case, Marinette couldn't help but feel pity for him. Kagami, at the very least, was still permitted some leverage of leniency and friendship that allowed her to enjoy life more freely. Adrien, however, wasn't allowed even the barest minimum of freedom at all.

This ball was a once-in-a-blue-moon event. King Gabriel was celebrating his fifteenth year as ruler, and therefore invited all royalty from neighboring kingdoms as a sign of good faith. If Kagami hadn't made her come as her impostor, Marinette was confident that she never would've been invited to such a high-scale and exclusive ball in her lifetime.

_Not that she could enjoy it._

She was working a little too hard in order to avoid all conversation and interaction with others, after all. Marinette was by no means a princess, and there was simply no way for her to effectively masquerade as one. At heart, Marinette was simply the baker's daughter— the life of royalty and fancy words and itchy dresses was a life worlds away from what she was truly living.

She sighs, louder again, hoping for the party to be over. Then, she looks upward and throws her hands to the sky.

"Can't this just be over with already?!"

Then, a sudden intrusion:

"I share the exact same sentiments."

Marinette coughs, quickly turning as she discovers a little too late that she's no longer the only person on the balcony. Standing near the entrance to the ballroom, a young man dressed fully in black— from his shoes to the dark mask adorning his face, smiles at her.

She flounders.

"Ah, _sorry!_ I didn't know anyone else was here, oh, I should go…"

As Marinette tries to leave, the mysterious stranger grabs her by the arm. She comes face-to-face with eyes of vivid green, and it causes her to still. "Do stay. You were here first, I should leave instead."

"No, please!" Marinette finds herself stopping him. _Why was she stopping him?_ "I wouldn't mind the company."

The stranger looks at her with an indecipherable expression, then nods. "Then, I'd love to take you up on that offer," he bows down, tilting his head up slightly, "Miss…"

"Ma— _I mean_ , do call me Madame Kagami."

Marinette cringes. _Nice save._

He stares at her and smiles. _It's a wonderful look on him._ "Then… it's a pleasure. If I'm correct, you're the Princess of the Tsurugi Kingdom?"

Somehow, she feels uncomfortable lying to him. She doesn't want to.

But more than anything, she doesn't want to get her friend in trouble. (Besides, Marinette doesn't make it a business to trust men she's barely met; even if they did happen to make her stomach flutter and her heart beat and all that other nonsense).

So she nods. "Yes, that's me, indeed! Princess Kagami, at your service." Marinette finally says. "And you are…?"

The stranger pauses, (too long for a simple question about a name, really), then smiles again. "Of no importance," he instead states. "I work here at the palace, so do consider me a mere shadow of tonight. But it's an absolute _honor_ to be speaking to someone of your caliber."

"Don't speak too much with royals, then?"

"Unfortunately, I've spoken with hardly anyone at all."

"We're the same," Marinette sighs, belatedly realizing her mistake. " _That is to say_ , I'm so busy with my kingdom! Writing contracts, giving speeches, ruling, and all that…"

"Sounds like a dull existence."

"I can't argue," she laughs. "Royalty is a bit too stifling for my taste. I'd much prefer to live a normal life… as it were." Marinette turns to smile at him. "If you were in my shoes, you'd feel the same."

"Believe me, I do," the stranger says under his breath, but it's so low that Marinette wasn't sure if she heard him correctly at all.

For both his sake (and her own), she decides to gloss over his statement. "Then, shall we get to know each other better?" She asks. "If you should so indulge me."

"If I should be so lucky to learn more about you, then I'd be a fool not to jump at the opportunity," the stranger smiles. Marinette finds herself mirroring the gesture. _Strange,_ that she's never felt this way before.

At that, they speak about everything, from Marinette's love for baking (— a _peasant's hobby,_ as others would call it) to the stranger's personal obsession with the stray cats around the palace. They share a conversation for what seems to only be minutes, but has surely lasted for much longer. After some time, he mumbles something to himself, and it's something that she can't quite decipher.

"What was that?"

"Oh," he finally says, after a brief pause. "I… I was just admiring how beautiful you look framed with the moonlight."

_What?_

Marinette's cheeks burn, and she immediately turns away. "Sorry, I fear that I may have heard you incorrectly."

"You're beautiful," he repeats.

At that, she's flushed completely crimson. Were all the people in this kingdom so _brazen_? "Please, you flatter me."

"As I hoped to do so," the stranger instead remarks, bowing down to press a kiss to her hand. Marinette feels herself floating as he leans closer to her. "You, Madame Kagami, are quite a vision. The Tsurugi Kingdom is fortunate to have you as their ruler."

And she's sent crashing back to reality.

 _Of course_. He thinks she's a princess— that's the only reason why he's attracted to her. In no way would he think she was beautiful in a regular circumstance, and especially not had he realized she was a liar.

Marinette takes a sudden step backward. "Hah, I'm honoured you think so highly of me. I'm not quite sure I'm worthy of the praise, however.

The stranger attempts to respond, when someone barges through the balcony doors. A tanned young man suddenly walks to them, grabbing her friend— _was he?_ —by the arm. "Where have you _been?_ I've been looking for you everywhere, everyone's been searching for you…" The intruder continues to berate him, as Marinette only stares on in confusion. "You shouldn't suddenly just leave without telling anyone, even _me_ , you know how important tonight is, I didn't think that you'd—"

"Excuse me?" Marinette finally speaks up, taking both their attention. "Please don't be mad at him, _I_ was the one who took up his time with conversation. I'm sorry for distracting him from work…"

"Work?" The man only asks, his amber eyes staring down at her with sudden curiosity. "What do you mean _work_ , this man has never worked a day in his life—"

"He's joking!" The stranger is quick to respond, wrapping his arm around his friend and covering the latter's mouth with his hand. "Likes to mess around with me, haha, he's a funny guy!" The two share a meaningful glance as the stranger jabs his friend at the ribs— with the latter nodding in apparent understanding. Marinette however, does not understand anything at all.

"I, uh, _okay_?" She vaguely realizes that maybe she's not the only one keeping secrets. "Then, I'll keep you no longer."

The stranger smiles. She wishes so dearly she could put a name to that face. But he speaks up before she can ask: "It's been a pleasure speaking with you, Madame Kagami."

"Likewise." Marinette responds kindly, before turning back towards the railings.

As the two figures retreat into the ballroom, the stranger's friend suddenly runs back to her and speaks. "Actually, Miss, I'd recommend that you return soon as well. I hear that the King's making an announcement regarding his son, tonight."

He winks at that, and though Marinette has no idea what it means, a strong part of her tells her that she shouldn't miss the announcement at all.

.

.

"Now introducing King Gabriel's son, and heir apparent of the Agreste Kingdom… Prince Adrien!"

Marinette looks on expectantly (though a little part of her admits that it's largely excitement; the mysterious stranger may have been handsome, but the Prince has had her heart for quite a long time).

As he walks through the ballroom entrance, Marinette stops in her tracks.

It's him.

With all her luck, _of course_ it's him.

Mysterious Stranger, who was now very clearly not a staff member as he so claimed, appears, mask in hand, with a bright smile on his face.

They make eye contact, and he smiles.

_Oh, this was bad._

"Good evening, and thank you for attending this humble event celebrating my father's fifteenth year as King," he begins. His eyes never leave her. "I am grateful, but I haven't been honest. While this party is meant as celebration, my father and I hid our true intentions for holding this ball.."

He begins to walk towards her.

_This was really bad._

"My true intentions… were to find my bride," Prince Adrien continues, before standing right in front of her. "To link two kingdoms, and most of all, two hearts."

He takes her hands in his.

_This was really, really, bad._

"For one woman has taken mine, right here, at this very ball.." He goes down on one knee. "Princess Kagami, of the Tsurugi Kingdom…

Will you marry me?"

_Oh, she's done it this time._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up a lot longer than expected ,,, i'll probably write more on this in the future ! (x3 bc ive said this so many times already o ops)
> 
> — but i actually might do this again (& this time in adrien's pov!) bc i want to better flesh out his side n to emphasize that he isnt rlly cool with the whole ~choose ur bride at a party~ thing ,, it's just that meeting marinette made him realize maybe it could work to his advantage !
> 
> also yes ,, if you noticed the lyrics i placed at the beginning are from sofia the first . :^) and i fully stand by this decision :^)) even if im definitely too old to even be talking about this show :^))) but anyway, my disney habits aside, as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	8. o8 - secret dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Marinette's forced to go on a blind date (with Adrien Agreste), she tells her boyfriend (Chat Noir).
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**secret dating**

_you secret's safe and no one,  
has to know i'm your getaway._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**IT happens gradually, then all at once.**

First, it starts with Mylene and Ivan. _Wholesome._ And, Alya and Nino. _Perfect._ Then, Juleka and Rose. _Adorable._

But afterwards, it somehow extends further; to people outside of their class. _Nathaniel and Marc. Kim and Ondine. Sabrina and some boy in another class._ Even _Chloé_ had gotten a girlfriend over the summer, with Kagami finally accepting her after months of the former's wooing.

By the time they all return to class, Marinette, to her complete surprise (and in some parts, _horror_ ), finds that the apparent theme for their return to class is _romance_ — and as far as everyone else is concerned, she's the exception.

(Except that Marinette's not. _Not really_ — though she can't exactly yell that truth into the sky or anything.)

Instead, she huffs, braves through the lovey-dovey atmosphere, and takes a seat.

Only for Alya to rush right beside her, Nino in tow, to completely rub it in her face.

"Someone looks a little sour today," she smirks, eyes bright with amusement. "Not liking being back to school?"

"I just don't understand what happened to everyone after the break!" Marinette complains, waving her hands around in evident confusion. "What made everyone so weird!?"

"Love _,_ " Alya shrugs, saying it almost _too_ simply. "Everyone spent their respective summer together, and dating just came as the most natural step." She turns to Marinette, shaking her head. "And if anything, _you're_ the weird one here! Girl, you're the only single one left."

_Well, she begged to differ._

Marinette shakes her head, then points at a pair at the other side of the room. "What about Max and Alix? They aren't dating anyone either!"

Alya rolls her eyes. "They're not interested in dating, remember?" She points out. "It's _their_ choice to be single. You're single because you have _no_ choice."

"That's not true, I—!"

" _You…_?"

Marinette pauses mid-sentence, and after an evident battle with herself, finally heaves a sigh of defeat. "Nothing," she finally grumbles, looking down.

_God, the whole superhero-secret-identity thing was increasingly becoming a pain to deal with._

_And the whole_ _**superhero-dating-superhero** _ _thing made it all_ _**that much** _ _more complicated._

"So I'm right," Alya decides to settle their conversation, crossing her arms over her chest. Marinette can't protest, and she only nods, though her expression shows anything _but_ agreement.

"Fine," Marinette exhales, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "But it's not that easy to find someone to date! I'm busy, and I don't really know anyone else my age outside of here," she gestures at the school. "And as _you_ said, they're all taken. So I guess I'll just have to wait!"

She hopes that's enough to get Alya off her case.

Her best friend did take more kindly to reasoning and logic rather than a straightforward _I don't want to date_ (because I have a boyfriend), after all.

But to her soon-to-be-realized horror, Marinette's statement does the complete opposite.

Alya shares a glance with her boyfriend, who smiles and nods. "Glad that's the only reason you're not out dating!"

"... why?"

She slides a paper through the desk. The glaring letters, _couples coupon!_ , instill in Marinette a feeling of dread she never felt even in previous battles with Hawkmoth and the akumas.

_This can't be real._

"Because that means you can't say no," she grins.

_This is a joke._

"Tomorrow afternoon, at the café we visited last weekend," she continues.

_This is a misunderstanding._

"Nino's friend will meet you there."

_This isn't what she thinks it'll be, of course._

"Have fun on your blind date!"

_Damn it, Alya._

.

.

Ladybug stops outside Adrien's room, and knocks on the window.

He's barely awake when he walks over, but the sleep almost fades away immediately as they lock eyes. Instead, he beams and runs toward the window, unlocking it so she can enter.

"What are you doing, Milady?" He asks, eyes sparkling. "I thought we weren't patrolling tonight?"

"We need to talk," she instead says.

Adrien panics. "Wait," he begins to flounder. "If this is because you're disappointed that I'm _me_ — that I'm Adrien Agreste, I promise that I can be better, please don't take my Miraculous, or _even worse_ , break up with me, milady, I love you so, so, much and…"

"What? No," Ladybug's quick to shake her head. "I'm not breaking up with you."

She can almost hear the relieved exhale that escapes his mouth. "Oh, _phew_! That would've been a _cat_ astrophe…"

Ladybug feels a smile form on her face. "So, losing me is _even worse_ than losing your Miraculous, huh?"

He's flustered. "I mean— I do take my job seriously! And I love being Chat Noir. It's just that… I can't lose you, either." Adrien walks toward her, then presses a kiss to her knuckles. "Milady, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She flushes red, then looks away. "Same to you."

Adrien beams, then sits down, gesturing for her to sit next to him. "So what did you want to talk about?"

It's hard to decide what to say. So she decides to tell it to him straight.

"I'm going on a date with someone else tomorrow."

It's a terrible idea.

He panics, again. "Wait, so you're not breaking up with me, so… you want an _open_ relationship?" Adrien looks almost scandalized. "I'm not sure how I feel about sharing you with anyone else…"

"No!" Ladybug interrupts, shaking her head vehemently. "It's just… for my civilian identity. My friend wants me to go on a blind date, and she can't know that about you, so…," She sighs, then looks down at her lap. "I had no choice, I'm sorry."

Ladybug's surprised when his hands come to hold her own. "Hey, as long as you know you're _meow_ ne," he smiles. "And I'm yours— I don't see a problem with it."

She's about to thank him, when he suddenly continues. "You know, this wouldn't be an issue if you just told me who you were…"

"You know I can't do that."

"But you know _my_ true identity!" Adrien argues, gesturing to himself. "I don't understand why I can't know yours."

"I know because I'm the Guardian," Ladybug tries to reason with him. "That's the reason I know everyone else who holds it—"

"But I'm not like them." Adrien finally argues, sighing as the words leave his mouth. "We got our Miraculous together. We were partners, before we became a team of superheroes. I was here for you, _with_ you, since the beginning. And… I thought you trusted me."

The last part comes almost as a whisper, but she can hear it loud and clear. Ladybug takes a deep breath and shifts, staring him in the eye. "I do trust you," she attempts to explain. "It's just… complicated."

"What is?!"

"I don't want you to be disappointed with me!" Ladybug finally shouts, shrinking back as her statement hangs in the air.

Adrien's at a loss for words, and before he can even attempt to respond, Ladybug tears her hands away and stands. When he gets his bearings, she's already one foot outside the window.

"I'm sorry," she only says. "I think I just… I just need to process everything." Ladybug smiles, though it's evidently conflicted. "I'll see you soon, Chat."

Then, without another word, she leaves.

.

.

Marinette paces in front of the cafe, thumbs twiddling together in apparent nervousness.

Her mind's full. She can't concentrate on the impending date at all— her conversation with Adrien, with _Chat Noir_ , still as fresh in her memory, replaying in her mind as if it were a bad omen.

She yawns, a direct result of a dire lack of sleep. Marinette spent the majority of the night speaking with Tikki, seeking her advice on the matter; and her only response was, "listen to your heart".

Marinette knows what her heart says. What her heart yearns for.

She just doesn't know if she has the strength to say it.

When a stranger calls her, it takes three times for him to say her name until she notices.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

 _That was probably her date, then_.

Holding back the intense need to snap at him, Marinette takes a deep breath. She smiles, then turns toward him.

"Yes, that's me. You're Nino's friend, the—?"

She pauses.

Everything seems to slow down and fade away. The world stills. Her mind stops.

All she can see is him.

"I— uh," Adrien scratches his head. "Yeah, that's me. Sorry, I had _no_ idea this was a date, Nino just told me I was meeting a friend until a few minutes ago, and…," he flounders.

_Now that was familiar._

"I'm just in love with someone else, so I don't think I can go through with this, I'm _so sorry_ I made you come all this way—"

"You always did apologize too much."

Adrien looks up, evidently confused. "I'm sorry, have we met before…?"

"So you love me, but you can't recognize me at all, huh?"

"No way…"

Marinette smiles, and it's a mix of nervousness and excitement and fear and love and everything else all at once. "Hi, kitty," she begins. "I hope this isn't too disappointing, but…"

She can't say another word, because suddenly she's being scooped up and carried as Adrien holds her in his arms. He's beaming, and his eyes are almost overflowing with joy.

Marinette feels her heart full. When he sets her down, his hands never leave her waist.

"Milady," he breathes, burying his nose into her neck. "I love you— _so much._ "

"My chaton," Marinette replies, full of care. Full of joy. Full of admiration and awe that this was truly happening. That the fates had worked completely in their favor.

" _I love you too."_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this au, marinette doesn't know adrien bc he never ends up going to their school. he is, however a good friend of nino's, which is why they end up going on a date together. in case it wasn't clear hsjkf - my au, my rules ! :^) but anw, i dont have much to say today, so i'll keep this note short (thank god she's finally gonna shut up - one of my readers, probably). as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	9. o9 - university

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time Marinette sees Adrien nude, he’s posing as Michelangelo’s David in front of twenty freshmen and an assortment of art supplies.
> 
> (Has suggestive themes for the sake of humour, but does not contain any explicit or adult content.)
> 
>  **tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**university**

_ i think of all the things, what you’re doing, _ _   
_ _ and in my head i paint a picture. _

**.**

**.** ****

**.**

**MARINETTE vaguely wonders if it’s an option to drop her major altogether.**

She stands in front of the door, the entrance to _ Arts 322 _ , a required subject in her curriculum— and one she’s actively been avoiding since her first year at the university.

But now she’s a senior, and if Marinette at all wanted to graduate with her degree in Fashion Design and Art, then ignoring it is no longer an option. (She’s almost maxed out her absences from avoiding the first few sessions, but ultimately decides that a few…  _ parts  _ aren’t dire enough to sacrifice her future for).

Mustering a lot more courage than is normally necessary for a college class, Marinette takes a step inside.

Madame Bustier’s triumphant smile and the curious stares of freshmen (more than likely wondering what a graduating student’s doing in here, and why she only started attending so late; _ she has the same question _ , really) is more than enough to make her hesitate.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Marinette!” She grins, then gestures for her to take one of the empty seats and easels. “Now we can start… everyone, welcome to nude figure painting!”

She awkwardly nods, but finds comfort that the atmosphere in the classroom seems to be mature and friendly, especially for a class that will require spending hours on end staring and painstakingly perfecting a sketch of some random person’s genitalia.  _ Maybe Madame Bustier was right. Maybe she is overreacting, and that this class is perfectly fine. Maybe her curse of being put in almost laughable over-the-top situations that do nothing but amplify her embarrassment has ended. _

Marinette takes a moment to scan the room, consequently noticing a familiar head of blonde hair nervously sitting somewhere near the front. The question of what a business major (one that was graduating, too) would be doing in an art class conveniently escapes her mind, all but being ignored as the comfort in knowing someone else in the room overtakes her thoughts completely.

They make eye contact.

_ Why does he look so nervous? _

She walks towards him.

_ Oh, he’s wearing a robe. That’s strange. _

He walks to the front.

_ Wait… Adrien doesn’t take art classes. _

He disrobes.

“Now I’d like to introduce your model for today, a business senior and a professional model in the fashion industry, Adrien Agreste!”

_ Now  _ that _ — that was much more on brand for her life. _

.

.

On a normal day, Marinette prides herself on being extremely professional.

Even as a student, she’s already made strides into the fashion industry, having made pieces for various personalities such as Jagged Stone, Chloé Bourgeois, Kagami Tsurugi, and of course, even the Agrestes.

Adrien even modeled some of her designs, starting from that feathered hat she made in elementary, all the way to becoming a regular model in her fashion shows for class (which always ended up drawing a large audience— but whether it was from her designs or because of  _ him _ remained to be a mystery). Their friendship only grew over the years, but it was always a thin line to mark that they would never cross over anything beyond that.

And seeing her best friend wearing nothing more than his birthday suit is more than enough to ensure that line is blurred and erased into oblivion.

Marinette wants nothing more than to run out of the room and pretend  _ this never happened _ , but doing that would practically secure another year of her staying behind at university (And  _ nobody _ wants that). So instead, she sucks it up and picks up her pencil.

From across the room, Adrien throws her an almost-worried glance, as he holds a posture that mimics the pose of Michelangelo’s  _ David _ . It’s a sculpture she’s never felt that strongly for; something that’s surely changed as he stands in front of the class, with everything quite clearly on display.

Marinette’s never seen more of him than at that exact moment.

She squeezes her eyes shut, and takes a deep breath.

_ You can do this, Marinette. It’s just your friend dressed up in the way nature made him. There’s nothing strange about this. Not at all. This is fine, this is fine, this is fine,  _ **_he_ ** _ is fine… _

Wait. _ Something wasn’t quite right there. _

As with all things uncomfortable, Marinette decides to ignore the thought and focus on drawing.

Drawing Adrien is disturbingly easy. She rarely has to look up from her canvas, having drawn him so often (both to his knowledge and without) that she’s confident her hands have memorized his features by heart— something Marinette had never been so thankful for until  _ now _ . From the smile wrinkles below his eyes to the callouses upon his hands, Marinette draws his upper body to an almost realistic and lifelike quality.

If only the assignment were portraits or bust sketches.

She sighs as her pencil stops at the v-shaped line curving down to his lower half. It’s time. She  _ has  _ to do it.

Marinette fixates her stare downwards.

From his head, to his chest, to his stomach, and…

_ Nope _ , she can’t do it.

“Thirty more minutes, then we present our work!” Madame Bustier calls, walking around the room to observe their sketches. She pauses after arriving at Marinette’s canvas, giving her a cursory glance. “That’s lovely work, Marinette, but you should hurry and finish the rest.”

At that, Madame Bustier smiles, then leaves her to panic to herself.

_ How the hell is she going to finish this sketch if she’s too immature to even  _ **_look_ ** _ at him? _

Marinette takes a deep breath, exhales, as an idea forms in her head.

_ Maybe there’s a way to fix this, after all. _

.

.

They’re all sitting together in a circular formation.

In all her art classes, Madame Bustier makes it a point to dedicate the final thirty minutes for sharing their artwork. It’s meant to be a means to share positivity and constructive criticism, something Marinette always appreciated… up until this moment.

Adrien sits across from her— fully clothed now, opting not to move too close as they were both still processing that  _ yes, that just happened _ . (She’s not quite sure if she’s thankful that he’s far or if she wants him to be close, though.)

The freshmen go first, proudly showing off their drawings. They’re talented, sketching his figure with great detail, yet Marinette can’t help but think they don’t capture his  _ essence _ . In their pieces, Adrien’s too rigid, too static— when she knows, maybe more so than anyone else, that he’s not like that at all.

Adrien, however, seems to think the complete opposite. He looks at the paintings with vivid attention and marvels at how they draw his image, rendered in twenty or so different ways. He seems completely in awe, and Marinette itches to get that expression on paper.

(As if she hadn’t just drawn him only a few moments earlier.)

“And… Marinette!” She’s finally called, as she’s the only one yet to show her work. As Marinette stands to the center, Madame Bustier continues to speak to the freshmen.

“Now I understand some of you have been rather… surprised to have a senior here, but I’m glad you’ve treated her kindly. She’s one of the most promising students we have in this department, so I do hope you make the most of this opportunity to learn from her.” 

Marinette smiles nervously. She’s not that much a fan of the attention, but nods along (though she wishes very intensely it were over).

At that, Madame Bustier faces her suddenly, then beams. “Her work for today is also lovely! I only saw the first half, but the attention to detail is something I hope you all strive for in the future.” She turns to Adrien.

_ Oh… no. _

“It’s clear that she’s  _ observed _ you quite passionately.” Was this happening? “She depicts you so  _ handsomely _ .” Is this real? “The sketch was truly a work of  _ love _ , if I’ve ever seen one.”

_ Please, go ahead and bury her now. _

Before Madame Bustier can respond— or even worse, before  _ he  _ does, Marinette coughs loudly enough to gain their attention. And she shows off her work.

Silence.

Then, a bark of laughter.

(She only notices with belated horror that it’s  _ Adrien _ who starts the cycle— as a growing ripple of stifled giggles echo throughout the classroom.)

Because Marinette Dupain-Cheng, almost-professional fashion designer and artist, had covered Adrien’s lower half… with a pair of pants on.

Marinette can almost see the cartoonish tick that appears on Madame Bustier’s forehead.

“Care to explain, Marinette?”

She smiles meekly.

“... he should take me on a date first.”

Adrien almost doubles over in laughter. (Before immediately shutting up, at the unamused expression of their professor.)

Madame Bustier attempts to respond, as the sudden alarm of her phone goes off. Realizing that class is almost over, she instead heaves an exhausted sigh.

“Okay, then, that’s all for today!” She starts. “Very good work, everyone, but I would like to remind you all that this is a  _ nude  _ drawing class.” Madame Bustier makes it a point to look at her dead in the eye. “Next time, please refrain from adding clothing to the models. Thank you!”

Marinette has never rushed out of a classroom so quickly in her life.

.

.

“So…  _ pants _ , huh?”

Marinette exhales, rubbing her forehead as he corners her down the hallway. “Don’t even remind me,” she mutters, instead. “Madame Bustier has me doing  _ another  _ nude sketch to submit next session. It’s not my fault!”

Adrien laughs. “I mean… you  _ did  _ go directly against what she wanted you to do.”

“I was caught off-guard!” Marinette argues. “I didn’t know you were going to be the model!” She huffs, jabbing his side with her elbow. “Since when did you start doing this? And why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It‘s my first time!” He retorts, defensively. “Madame Bustier asked if I could help, and you  _ know  _ I can’t disappoint her…  _ besides _ , she told me you wouldn’t be there!”

“It’s my class!”

“And it’s the first time you came, right?” Adrien shoots back, then shakes his head, mumbling. “ _ This isn’t how it was supposed to go. _ ”

“What do you mean?”

He blushes— and Marinette almost engraves the memory into her mind. He’s awkward and nervous, and it’s almost a stark difference from the cool and collected model she’d sketched just a few moments ago.

Adrien coughs to himself. “The first time you see me nude.”

Marinette grins. Opportunities to tease him are far and in-between, so of course she’s going to take full advantage of it.  _ “There are going to be other times?” _

His face looks scorching. “I mean… if you’d like there to be!” He says quickly, almost tripping over his words. “You need to make another sketch, right? I can help… if you’re okay with that… it’s probably good that it’s still me, after all! And…”

_ Cute _ . So painstakingly  _ cute. _

(The model earlier seems like a character of complete fiction.)

“I’d love to,” she finally says, grinning. “But as I said earlier, I’m waiting on a first date.”

Adrien almost looks disappointed, before Marinette continues.

“So pick me up for dinner?”

He’s glowing.

“I’d absolutely love to.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was so hesitant to post this bc of the aged-up-characters-and-sexual-content-in-fics discourse, but i dont think this was explicit in any way, so hopefully this doesn’t offend anyone ;n; the intent was for humor, and nothing else !!
> 
> anw, i have to say i respect nude models a lot ! it’s rlly hard to be an art model bc you have to stay still in both pose and expression, n nude models also have to be fully comfortable w expressing themselves completely + all possible mental n physical (at times) risks that come w that ! i just think they’re Neat and i admire their confidence n dedication<3 but yEA:


	10. 10 - reverse crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Adrien Agreste tells national television that Multimouse is his favorite superhero, things descend into chaos. For Ladybug, especially.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**  
.**

**reverse crush**

_my heart's in overdrive, and,  
you're behind the steering wheel._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**EVERYONE expects his answer to be Ladybug.**

Because it's _always_ Ladybug. The savior of Paris. The one who can undo all the damage. The one who always brings hope wherever she goes. The _face_ of the superhero movement. (One can argue that Chat Noir is equally as important, and he definitely believes it to be true, but the question, in the end, is who his superhero crush is— and as far as Adrien's concerned, he can't have a crush on himself.

Though the apparent _adrichat_ shippers beg to differ.)

In any case, Ladybug's not the answer.

Only one girl has his heart, really, and it's by sheer luck that she happens to be a superhero— and an even bigger bout of luck when he finds out about it. So the answer flows out of his tongue without so much as a thought:

"Multimouse."

Nadja Chamack is, understandably, caught off-guard. (In reality, she had come into this interview hoping to find some truth to the fact that two of Paris' biggest idols were in love with each other)— but this seemed to be a lot more interesting.

"She's… the one who helped Chat Noir and Ladybug with Kwamibuster, right?"

"Yeah!" Adrien's eyes almost sparkle as he talks about her. "She's the only reason why we— _all of Paris, I mean_ , managed to defeat her then! Ladybug and Chat Noir would've been in real trouble if she wasn't there to save the day. And she's so _cool_ like Multimouse has the power to become tiny, and when she used her power it was so _adorable_ and _amazing_ and _wonderful_ —!"

"A Multimouse fanboy, then?" Nadja asks, an amused smile playing on her face. "I'm sure a lot of our viewers are surprised. They, and even _I_ thought you'd choose Ladybug. What makes Multimouse so unique?"

Because it's her. Because it's the girl he's so desparately in love with. Because it's _Marinette Dupain-Cheng._

(Not like he can say that, of course.)

"I do love Ladybug," Adrien begins. "She's a hero and I look up to her sense of duty and professionalism in saving Paris." Then, a pause. "But I admire Ma— _Multimouse_. She was thrown into the superhero role so suddenly, in a situation as high-stakes as back then, and managed to do perfectly." He looks down and smiles. "And… she's cute."

(Oops, now _that_ wasn't meant to slip out.)

Nadja's look of victory at receiving— and being responsible for breaking the news of _Adrien Agreste's Crush_ is clear. "Well, she does sound like quite a hero when you describe her like that. It's a shame that she hasn't showed up so much."

"You're right," Adrien mutters, and the disappointment in his tone is evident. "But I trust in Ladybug… and Chat Noir's judgment. If they need her, then she'll appear again."

"For the sake of your crush, let's hope so!"

Adrien splutters. "Wait, Ms. Chamack, this isn't a crush, it's just admiration from a purely superhero-civilian perspective…"

She turns to the video camera. "Young love is sweet, isn't it? For Adrien, let's all wish that Multimouse shows up again soon! Ladybug and Chat Noir, maybe you'd be interested in lending a hand?"

The show comes to a close with Adrien beet-red and almost desperately covering his face.

.

.

Marinette is exhausted.

Which is saying a lot, because she's already exhausted on a regular day— from balancing her studies, being a class representative, fashion designing, helping at the bakery, and of course, being Ladybug, but _this_ brought everything to an entirely new level.

Because now, not only did she have to run around Paris in _one_ full-body suit, but with Adrien's apparent declaration of love on national television— and multiple angrily-worded ' _why do you hate love / Multimouse / Adrien Agreste'_ letters to her superhero persona after— Marinette was now made to run around using _two_.

Ladybug with an akuma, Multimouse when patrolling. And also Ladybug when patrolling. And _sometimes_ Multimouse with an akuma.

Just to keep everyone in Paris happy. (And non-suspicious, really.)

All because of that _damned_ interview.

She has to stop herself from yelling a string of not-so-kind words into the sky.

Marinette likes Adrien. She really does.

He's a good friend, and after that whole misunderstanding with Chloé and the gum, basically cemented himself as an all-around good person. He's given her more homework help, fashion advice, and general pep talks than she could ever count.

But Marinette doesn't _like_ like him.

(And maybe she would, in an alternate universe— he's kind, sweet, handsome, and all of Paris is quite frankly in love with him, but her heart belongs completely to someone else.)

So a sudden reveal that he has a crush on her superhero persona… and not even her _primary_ one, doesn't really bother her as much as it could.

Besides, as far as she was concerned, Adrien had never interacted with Multimouse. She wonders how he could've gotten all those thoughts about her in his head, but decides it's just one of his stranger quirks and leaves it aside.

It's probably infatuation with a superhero. _Nothing new_ , really. (She's experienced fans claiming they 'loved' her when all they truly felt was admiration. Nothing less, and honestly, nothing more.)

Marinette knows what true love is.

She knows it so clearly that when it comes jumping from the buildings, rooftop to rooftop, her heart threatens to beat out of her chest and follow him.

He lands on the empty balcony with ease.

"Why so glum, bugaboo?" Chat Noir asks. "You look _exhausted_. Didn't get enough rest last night?"

Marinette wants to scream. They're supposed to be patrolling tonight; alternating between Ladybug and Chat Noir, then Multimouse and Chat Noir, then _Ladybug and Multimouse_ — a plan which, on paper, sounds perfect.

But in this case, Marinette's both, she's Ladybug and Multimouse (and herself at every other point of the day), and therefore hasn't had any sleep at all.

It's tiring, but seeing Chat Noir, she finds, makes her feel a lot better.

"Had some things to do… in the real world," she mumbles instead, lazily leaning upon the railing. "How was it yesterday?" Marinette asks, opting to change topics. "Multimouse said you're working well together."

Chat Noir almost _beams_ when the words escape her mouth.

(Marinette vaguely wonders if it's possible to be jealous of herself.)

"Really?" He asks, eyes bright. "She said that? I've honestly been so worried about whether or not I've been making her uncomfortable… she doesn't talk a lot, which I think is a shame, because I'm sure she has a _ton_ of interesting stories…"

"Hey," Marinette stops him. "Remember that Multimouse has to keep her identity secret. She can't risk giving any information that might lead back to her civilian self. She's new to this, so it's only right that she's more careful than we are."

 _It's strange_ , talking about herself like this.

"You're right," he sighs, before turning to her. "Hey… can I tell you a secret?"

Marinette frowns. _What could this be?_

"I actually know who Multimouse is," he finally confesses. "I know it's Marinette."

 _Well, she already knew that._ She was the one responsible for him making that realization, after all.

But what gets her is how comfortable he is saying _her_ name— when really, all he should know is Ladybug and Multimouse.

"So you saw her detransform, huh?" Marinette asks, looking up to the sky. "I hope you'll keep it secret."

"Of course I will!" Chat Noir protests, then takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you trusted her. She's a good person."

_Now how does he know that?_

"I mean—," he stumbles over his words. "From what I've heard! From her friends… and online posts… and stuff… I've definitely never met her before!"

_Liar._

_**Why** _ _is he so terrible at lying?_

Because that's something she knows now. That Chat Noir knows her. That he knows Marinette. So to some extent, _she knows him._

Which means that there's a very large possibility that Marinette has spoken to Chat Noir. That Marinette has interacted with Chat Noir. That Marinette is maybe even _friends_ with Chat Noir. And that for all her talk about being in love with him, _she doesn't recognize him at all_.

"... Ladybug?"

"How do you know Marinette?"

The question escapes her tongue before she can stop it. It's a dangerous question, one that can ruin their secret identities completely, but she can't help doing so.

She needs to know.

He's evidently panicking. Marinette watches him with a steady gaze, even though she's all but in complete chaos on the inside.

"I'm kinda maybe _in love with her_."

_Well._

_She wasn't expecting that at all._

"You… love…," the words aren't registering, and she's struggling to get a single word out.

He sighs. "Yeah, cat's out of the bag now? I know her a bit in real life. She's just so kind and talented and cute… it's impossible _not_ to fall in love with her. That's why I was so excited when you started recruiting Multimouse again— and why I've been so insistent on having her on patrols with me."

_Wait._

"But it's okay! I'll never tell her that we actually know each other. Cat's honour!" Chat Noir smiles at her, acting as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world. "And don't worry, everyone I know has or had a crush on Marinette at some point. I'm one-in-a-million, so I don't think this'll narrow your search on me by that much…," he begins, "as long as you don't look."

 _Except she's looking_. _Even against her will, Marinette's mind speeds through everyone she knows that has a similar build to his._

_Blonde hair, green eyes, about her size…_

_Only one person fits that bill._

The word escapes her mouth before she can stop it.

"Adrien?"

"... _okay_ , so maybe I messed up."

"So _you're_ the reason I haven't been sleeping?"

"Well I mean, I'm flattered…"

Marinette gets the situation she's in quickly. Adrien, however, takes a little bit longer.

"I meant for _patrolling_ you absolute zero-braincelled—

" _Patrolling_? Ladybug, what do you mean…"

"Hhh. Think about it for a second."

"Ladybug…"

"You can do it."

"… you're Multimouse?"

"And…"

"And that means…"

"Come on now."

.

.

" _ **Marinette?!**_ "

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take this identity reveal fluff brain rot ,,, hsncnsk i'm gonna b honest i'm not great at reverse crush aus (bc i have one braincelk n halfway thru writing it always forgets im in that universe and i end up using the original dynamic ,,)
> 
> also im just not as inspired by it so mayhaps this isnt my -best- work ;n; not the biggest fan of the end reveal but i did like my setup so little victories ! but az always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	11. 11 - star-crossed lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is sentenced to burn at the stake for the most severe crime of all, falling in love with Prince Adrien.  
> (or, a miraculous ladybug au inspired by megurine luka's song, 'witch'.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**star-crossed lovers**

_if my love was just a curse,  
then i have only tears to shed._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **PLEASE, dearest, tell me the truth."**

Marinette doesn't even look up as he speaks, his voice echoing from the otherwise empty dungeon.

"For what reason?" She asks, instead. "It seems you've chosen your side." Marinette spares him a passing glance, and it's so cold he almost takes a step back. " _Who to believe._ "

"I was given no other choice!" He argues, holding almost desperately onto the bars that prevented him from holding her directly. "Lila is trusted by the people— trusted by my _father_ , even! She's—"

"The _divine_ messenger," Marinette finishes for him, though her tone drips of venom and nothing of the kindness he had known from her prior. _Had he truly been fooled?_ "The woman who claims to speak directly to _God._ " She laughs to herself; bitterly, almost angrily. "And yet it is _I_ who is considered the heretic."

At that point, Marinette keeps eye contact.

Her stare is sharp and icy; the warm ocean blue he had familiarized himself with nowhere to be seen.

"How _foolish_."

Adrien grips the bars tighter. "Then tell me she's wrong," he pleads. "Tell me that you hadn't… that you're not…"

"Not _what_?" Marinette asks, voice almost terrifyingly devoid of emotion. "Tell me, _dearest_ , what crime you've accused me of." She rages with quiet ferocity. "Tell me what I've done that justifies being treated like a monster." Her tone borders on cruel. _"Say it."_

They stare at each other, neither willing to back down. Accusing her outright, he knows, means that there's no turning back. There's a finality that comes with speaking it aloud— a finality that quite clearly meant that whatever they had with each other (if anything) is over.

So, Adrien ends it.

"That you've enchanted me to fall in love with you."

The words hang in the air, becoming much heavier when said aloud. He continues, quiet. "That I've been cursed to give my heart to a witch."

Marinette's strangely silent.

Then, almost vulnerable, she asks it:

"Was the possibility of you loving me so outlandish that only a curse could make it so?"

For a moment, he almost sees _his_ Marinette; kind, loving, honest, and who he had loved so _purely_.

"Do you despise me?"

The 'no' escapes his mouth before he can even register it, shocking both of them.

Adrien knows he should hate her; loathe her for the sins she's committed to the kingdom— to _him_.

But he also knows confidently that his feelings are the complete opposite.

The only question that remains is whether that feeling of love to her is genuine.

He sighs, dropping down to his knees. He leans his head against the prison bars, exhausted. "I could never despise you," Adrien mutters, almost as if he were saying it to himself. "And that's the problem."

"Adrien, I—"

Then he faces forward, staring directly at her. "And you misunderstood," he starts. "I never believed the curse because I could never love you."

He smiles, though all he can really feel is the crushing sadness that threatens to bury himself whole.

"I believed the curse because _I never knew I could love someone that much._ "

The silence is deafening.

Then, a single tear rolling down a cheek.

And in a moment, it becomes an overwhelming torrent of them.

Marinette finally breaks down, collapsing onto the floor as her body's wracked with sobs.

Adrien's never wished so terribly that he had some cataclysmic power to destroy the cell holding her hostage, and to hold her in his arms.

So instead he watches, almost helplessly, as she puts herself back together.

It only takes a moment.

(She never did make it his business to see her vulnerable; Marinette believed it to be the most intense form of intimacy, and she had always been too scared to take that step.

Now he knew her fears weren't unfounded at all.)

"I'm sorry," she finally says, after what seems like an eternity. "I had never meant… for any of this to happen."

He laughs lightly. "I don't think anyone could have expected this outcome," he says. "I'd have thought our story would finish with a completely different ending, really."

Marinette smiles, wiping her cheeks with a tattered cloak. "And what would that be?"

"The palace," Adrien hums. "I take over my father, and rule on my rightful place as king."

"How wonderful." She says, features softening. "Though I do recall you saying this was _our_ story? How would I fit in?"

"Every king needs his queen."

"Perhaps Lila can fill that role."

They both share a laugh.

"No… only one person can fill that role, truly." Adrien stares at her, almost nervous, as he speaks up. "And that woman—"

"— is someone you'll find someday," Marinette interrupts, before standing back up. "Whoever she is, I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have someone so lovely by her side."

Marinette cups his cheeks, and the warmth that spreads throughout his body only yells his deepest desires:

_How could_ _**this** _ _be evil?_

She smiles, then presses a kiss to his forehead.

"I now release you from this curse, Prince Adrien of the Agreste Kingdom," Marinette begins. "Now live and love freely, without this monstrous witch to hold you back."

"Wait, Marinette—"

" _ **There he is!"**_

Lila comes bursting through the entrance to the dungeon, a string of guards on her trail.

She immediately runs to him, almost yanking him away from her cell.

"My dearest prince," Lila cries, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've been _so_ worried! I've prayed and spoken with God, who by His gracious heart, has told me where you've been kept captive."

A snort.

The nun seethes at that sound, suddenly turning to face Marinette, eyes glassy with anger. "And _you_!" She growls, walking forward to roughly grab Marinette by her dress' collar; almost strangling the girl as she's held up. "Release Adrien from his curse, you _damned witch_ —"

"Lila, stop!" Adrien pulls her away, allowing Marinette to be thrown back; coughing and breathing deeply as she falls to the floor. "There's no need to be cruel."

She glares at Marinette, before letting go.

" _Fine_." Lila says, though the lack of remorse on her expression is evident. She reaches upward and holds the cross on her necklace, rubbing it almost too intensely. "I'm confident that the Lord will pass upon her fair judgment."

At that she latches on to Adrien, then grins. "Now come with me, I have some _great_ rituals to help remove the horrid stench of that witch from you."

He only nods, silent, as he's led upstairs.

He turns back.

"Goodbye, Marinette."

It physically hurts him to see her smile.

" _Goodbye_ , Prince Adrien."

.

.

"Marinette, you are henceforth being trialled as a witch. What say you to this claim?"

"If it is a sin to love, then I will gladly admit I am guilty of it."

"Then we shall take that as your acceptance of the accusation. Prince Adrien, as the victim, what say you?"

"..."

"Prince Adrien?"

"..."

"See, he is clearly under the spell of this _witch_! We must kill her now to free him! Do it _now_!"

"Here, here!"

"No…"

"Kill the witch!"

"Wait…"

"Burn her at the stake!"

"... _Don't!_ "

Screams, fire, a vision of black, then—

Nothing.

_She's gone._

.

.

A dark red scarf flying in the wind.

A hand outstretched, grabbing it from the air.

A woman, running over.

A man, falling in love.

Between them, something is lit.

It begins the same way it ends.

_In flames._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna explain the fic rlly bad but i dont want anyone to assume i think my readers are dumb ;n; (bc in reality, im the dumb one & im not sure i was able to express what i wanted to here properly. :')) also does this count as star-crossed lovers ?? coz i honestly have no idea what falls under that bracket outside of romeo and juliet + swan lake, so :^D wingin' it !! (highkey was so stressed bc i only thought of this idea during dinner ,, and therefore had to word vomit a lot lmaoskd)
> 
> anyway ! as stated at the start notes, this is inspired by the vocaloid song "witch" by luka (megurine, not couffaine lmao) . specifically, luciasatalina's mlb animatic of it up on youtube !! (god this was gorgeous i highly recommend checking it out if you havent<3) i absolutely love the storytelling in the song, and hope i didn't butcher it ~completely~ . but yes, as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	12. 12 - childhood friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien, Marinette, and the varying degrees of need.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**childhood friends**

_it's better to burn,  
than to fade away._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**ADRIEN meets Marinette when he's six years old and running away for the first time.**

It happens after his mom tells him that he can't have macarons for dinner. _Can you believe it? To separate a child and his one true love— a single bite of passionfruity goodness…_ it is, understandably, too much for his little mind to handle.

So, he runs away—

Because clearly, the only logical solution to not having dessert for dinner is to run away somewhere that would allow him to do so.

_(Maybe whoever made the macarons. He's sure that they probably have sweets for every meal!)_

And it seems like a good idea at first.

But as he runs through the dimly-lit streets of Paris, with nothing but his superhero-themed backpack and the black cat stuffed toy he'd been given for Christmas, Adrien slowly begins to realize that _maybe_ he'd acted too rashly.

He's cold, he's wet, and his macarons are _nowhere to be found_.

So of course, he does what any six-year-old would do in his situation:

He falls to the ground and starts crying.

It's in that state when she first finds him.

" _Whatcha cryin' about?"_

Adrien looks up and freezes. Snot is dripping out of his nose, eyes red, and cheeks puffy— and for the first time in his life, he feels self-consciousness.

Because standing in front of him is very likely the _prettiest_ girl he's ever seen.

Quickly wiping his face with his sleeve (though all it really does is intensify the redness), Adrien shakes his head. "I'm not crying."

"Yeah you were," she says, pointing at his face. "Look, your face is wet."

"... it's because it's raining."

Pretty Girl huffs. "It's not raining," she accuses him. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying!" He argues, slowly standing back up. "I'm not crying!"

"You just were," she shoots back. "Why are you sad, sad boy? Where are your parents?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "Nowhere. I don't care." Adrien shakes his head. "They're bad parents."

"What do you mean bad?" She asks. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yeah! They didn't let me have macarons for dinner."

"... and?"

"And…?" Adrien asks, confused. "That's it. They're so _mean_ , not letting me eat what I want. So I ran away!"

A sudden smack on the head.

" _Ouch?!"_

"You're being spoiled," Pretty Girl finally says, frowning. "Your parents are just doing what's best for you. Stop getting mad at them for that."

"But I want _macarons_!"

"And you can't always get what you want!" She argues, shaking her head. "You should be happy with what you have. Papa always tells me how lucky I am to be where I am. Some kids don't even get to be that lucky ever."

"But…"

"No buts," she says, with finality. "Listen to your parents!" Then, after a moment, Pretty Girl fishes out something from her pocket.

It's one piece of a red polka-dotted earring.

"Here."

Adrien stares at her, suspicious. "What is this?"

"It's to make you happy again," she tells him. "It's an earring."

"... so it's a gift?"

Pretty Girl wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, I guess. Just stop crying already."

He smiles.

A gift.

_From a pretty girl!_

"Thank you," he beams, remembering his mother's lessons on how to be a good boy. "This means we're friends, right?"

"... sure," she finally mutters, after a brief pause. Then, she takes out her hand. "I'm Marinette."

"Adrien," he replies, almost enthusiastically holding her hand in his. "Nice to meet you!"

He wants to ask more, and talk to her longer, before the sound of an ambulance rings across the otherwise empty streets.

Then, an army of police cars quick to follow.

"What happened?" He wonders, before noticing Marinette try to sneak away. "Hey! Where are you going?" Adrien asks, chasing after her as she makes a run for it.

"My parents don't know I'm out!" She responds, shouting at him. "I'll be in trouble if they see I'm not in bed!"

"But will I see you again?"

Marinette laughs, and Adrien's almost confident he's never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.

"Friends don't just leave each other like that!" She only says, before disappearing into the night.

He finds himself alone, having stopped in front of a bus station.

It's a concerned conductor that helps bring Adrien home, to the arms of his evidently just-been-crying parents (he watches with childlike wonder as his father wipes away his teary expression, Marinette's words echoing in his ear) and a mound of freshly-heated macarons— but he barely takes notice.

Instead, Adrien looks in his hand.

The polka-dotted earring glitters with the light.

He presses it to his heart, then wishes with all his soul that he'll see her again.

_Marinette._

_How cute._

.

.

The next time Adrien meets Marinette is almost two years later.

He's running away again.

Chloé had invited him to a playdate in her bedroom, where she insisted they play house— with her being the wife, and him the "super handsome and _all mine_ husband".

But Adrien didn't want to play that. He wanted to play superheroes, so he grabbed the superhero mask he made in school and put it on— ignoring her protests.

She cried and he called her a spoiled brat, before running away to avoid getting scolded. He runs to the emergency exit, sitting on the stairs as he leans his head upon his arms, almost on the verge of tears.

"You're a crybaby."

Adrien looks up, noticing with surprise as Marinette stands on the stair below him, arms crossed together as she peers over at his small frame.

" _You!"_

"Yeah, me," she replies. "Who else would it be?"

"You…"

"I…"

" _Where have you been!?"_ Adrien finally rages, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of confusion and anger. "I've been waiting for you for _forever_!"

"I'm sorry…," Marinette begins, scratching her head. "Did I say I was gonna meet you? I'm kinda forgetful…"

"And _dumb_!" Adrien shouts, pointing accusingly at her. "You're a meanie face poop head for leaving me!"

" _Hey,_ " she starts quietly, before kicking his leg.

"Ouch! What was _that_ for?!"

Marinette sticks her tongue out. "You can't just call people bad names like that!" She says, glaring disappointedly at him. "Go wash your mouth with soap."

"But I can't do that! It's gross!"

"Mama tells me that's the punishment for bad kids who say bad things," she warns him. "So don't say things like that again."

"..."

" _Adrien_."

" _Fine!"_ He finally bites out, evidently irritated.

"And you have to say sorry."

" _What?_ "

Marinette glares at him. "You have to say sorry to people you've said those things to. Because it hurts them."

"... it _hurts_?"

"Yeah," she explains, putting a hand to her heart. "Right here. And even more when it's someone we care about."

" _Really?_ "

Marinette nods.

Adrien frowns, thinking to himself, before abruptly standing up. "I'm sorry, Marinette," he finally says. "I don't want to hurt you."

She beams at him. "And I'm okay now!" She says, raising her hands upward. "See, it's that easy!"

Adrien nods along, before remembering _another_ person he has to say sorry to.

He stares at her. "I have to do something," he starts. "Can you wait for me?"

Marinette sighs, apologetic. "Sorry, I can't," she replies. "Mama and Papa are waiting for me downstairs. I just went here because you were crying so loud."

" _Hey—!_ "

"But do what you have to do," she grins. "I'll see you again."

"Promise?" Adrien asks, sticking out his pinky finger.

She smiles, linking her pinky with his. "It's a pinky promise."

When Adrien returns to Chloé's apartment, the first thing he says is sorry.

They play house together, but roleplay as siblings. Adrien tells her that he can't play her husband; not when he wants someone else to play with his wife.

 _Marinette Agreste_.

_Doesn't sound too bad._

.

.

Marinette keeps her promise.

Their meetings are short and infrequent, but he always treasures every moment.

The time he accidentally ruins his father's painting, she makes him apologize. The time Chloé bullies Sabrina, she tells him to make her stop. The time he gets the last macaron at a shop, she convinces him to share it with the crying baby outside.

Adrien can feel himself becoming a better person the more they meet. With every wrong he's done, she's there like a guardian angel to show him the right way.

She makes him kinder, stronger, and more honest.

It's at the tender age of eleven years old when Adrien Agreste decides that he loves her.

.

.

The next year, Marinette only visits him once.

At the day of _her_ funeral.

He sits alone, standing in front of her grave.

_Emilie Agreste, Rest In Peace._

She doesn't say a word, only putting a hand on his shoulder.

He's grateful for it.

"At least you'll always be here for me," Adrien says.

She laughs softly, but doesn't reply.

.

.

She shows up less and less, the older he gets.

After his mother passed away, his father had locked him in the house with almost _no_ contact with the outside world.

Adrien wonders if that's why Marinette hasn't been showing up.

He knows in his heart, however, that it isn't true.

.

.

"How did you get in here?"

"Is that a question you really want to know the answer to?"

"Maybe not."

Marinette leans her head on his shoulder, nuzzling closer to him.

He doesn't move.

.

.

It is at fifteen years old when Adrien's father gets him a therapist.

"Do you see her now?" He asks.

"No."

The therapist nods, writing as Adrien watches Marinette peek over his shoulder.

" _He's writing that you're crazy."_

"I'm not crazy!"

The doctor looks up at him, and it's almost pitiful.

" _Of course not."_

.

.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

The room is empty, but he knows she's watching. _Waiting_.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Adrien heaves, rubbing at his eyelids. He hasn't slept in days— weeks, even.

It's gotten to the point that even his father wants him to come outside, if even for a moment.

"I just want to be normal."

"No, you're too special for that."

.

.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I have to let you go."

"Why?"

"You aren't good for me."

"You told me I made you a good person."

"You did."

"What changed?"

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"..."

"I loved you."

"I'm not real."

"That doesn't mean my feelings weren't."

"The therapist was right. _You are crazy_."

"..."

"You're still a crybaby."

"I know. But I can handle these things on my own now."

"I hope you'll miss me."

"You were my first friend."

"I love you."

"..."

"Goodbye."

.

.

Adrien sees the sun for the first time in months.

He feels lighter.

Nothing is holding him back anymore.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got some bad news today :) haha sorry for the sudden shift in the fic's tone (but that's life amirite keeps throwing curveballs at you when you least expect it)
> 
> anw i'll be back with better stuff soon
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	13. 13 - flower shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien asks for very specific arrangements with very specific meanings, and Marinette is the only one who can somehow translate it into floral bouquets _(but also, not really)_.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**flower shop**

_i love you like,  
a flower loves a spring._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **HOW do you say** _ **'I want to move out because you're suffocating me too much and I need my freedom but I still love you and hope you won't hate me completely'**_ **in flower?"**

Marinette pauses, as she looks down at the— _hundred dollar bill?!_ — on the counter.

Two things cross her mind at once:

  1. That the person ordering the bouquet is very likely insane, and;
  2. That said insane person is also very like the most handsome person she's ever met.



Her eyebrows knit together. "I'm… sorry?"

The customer doesn't even seem fazed by the question. "Sorry, did I say it too quickly?" He asks, tilting his head slightly. _Cute._ (But he must be strange if he thinks _speaking too fast_ is the issue.)

"I was hoping for a bouquet that could say… _this_." He takes out a paper, scribbling down a few words before passing it over to her.

_Yup. She definitely heard that right._

Marinette holds up the paper in her hand. "This is prettyspecific."

"Oh, is it too much? I could just shorten it if I—"

"No, no," Marinette interrupts, pausing suddenly. "It's, _well_ , it's fine! You landed in the right florist's door, I know _exactly_ what you need."

"Really?" He's almost beaming. "I went to a _ton_ of flower shops before this and they all told me I was nuts and that no arrangement could make a message so specific."

She laughs. "That's just because they're not as good as me, _'cause I'm the best_! Consider me an expert on the language of flowers."

"Great!" He responds brightly. "I was worried about how I was going to break it to him…"

"Who is this mysterious _he_ , anyway?" Marinette steps outside the counter, circling around the shop a few times as she looks around the greenery, deciding on what to pick.

She spares him a passing glance.

Even casually leaning across the counter, he looks like he's been picked out of one of the fashion magazines for fun. (The sun shining from the open windows does nothing but highlight his figure, almost illuminating him to _godlike_ status.)

Marinette gulps. "That is if you don't mind me asking!"

The customer smiles, completely unbothered (and oblivious to her panic). "It's okay," he replies easily. "... it's for my dad. I'm planning to move out and I just don't know how to break it to him." He smiles. "And I've heard that flowers are a great way to ease into conversation."

"Well," Marinette replies, carefully picking out a few plants and laying them on her arm. "They're pretty, at least. And everyone loves looking at things they think are beautiful."

She stares at him for a bit too long, before immediately stuttering to herself and heading back toward the counter, an army of flowers in hand.

"So I think we've got our flowers here," she starts, carefully laying them down on the table. "I'll just arrange and wrap it together, then we're all set!"

" _Perfect_ ," he says, observing her work through the plants. She's so focused that when he speaks up again, Marinette almost falls over.

"You're great at this."

She squeaks. "I— uh— _thank you?_ "

"I can't do things like this," he explains, stretching his arms out to gesture at the greenery around them. "I have, like, the _opposite_ of a green thumb. I kill every plant I touch." He drags his hands down his face, almost dramatically. "I have the power of _destruction_."

Marinette laughs. "I'll be sure to wrap it well, then." She smiles, before holding out the arrangement in her hands. "Can't have you destroying this before you get it to your dad, now can we?"

He doesn't speak when she shows him the bouquet, and Marinette finds herself worrying if he likes it at all.

Until he starts speaking, a sudden burst of words coming out all at once.

"This is gorgeous!" He exclaims, regarding the floral arrangement with awe. " _Wow_ , you made this? I mean, I just _saw_ you make it but…" he stares up at her. "What is it?"

"It's— uh, yellow carnations, lavenders, and lilies."

"Oh," he replies, the interest radiating off him in waves. "What does that mean?"

" _Uh…_ just trust me!" Marinette finally says, after a brief pause. "I don't want to bore you with the details, the flower language can get a little too long…"

"Then, maybe next time?" He asks, hopeful, and she can't do anything else but nod. "This is absolutely beautiful, Marinette."

"Uh—?!" Her voice is bordering on hysterical. "I, _uh,_ how did you know my name?"

The customer laughs, then points at his heart.

 _He_ _**loves** _ _her?!_

"Nametag," he grins. "It's on your apron."

Oh. _Right._

(Marinette, _get your act together_.)

"It's Adrien, by the way." He smiles. "No nametag, unfortunately, but I'm Adrien.

_How could he have such a beautiful name?_

"Adrien…," she repeats— almost starstruck.

Before remembering exactly what kind of situation she's in, and immediately pulling back, busying herself with wrapping the flowers together.

It's a silent few minutes, and Marinette can practically _feel_ his curious gaze pinpricking her skin.

 _Warm_ , it makes her feel _so, so, warm_.

When she finally finishes, she's sweating. _(And it's not from working.)_

"Here 'ya go!" Marinette practically shoves the bouquet in his face. _Great. Give the guy a face full of flower. Great job, Marinette._

But he doesn't seem to mind. Adrien only smiles, taking it from her— she can almost feel the electricity shocking her when their fingers touch.

"Thanks," he says. "I'm really glad I found your shop."

"I am too," she mutters— before immediately backtracking. "I _mean_ , always great to help a customer in need!"

"Then, I'll see you again soon!"

"Yeah, see yo… _wait?!_ "

.

.

Marinette's surprised when he actually shows up again.

And again. And again.

_And again._

The next time, he asks for flowers to say, _"I'm sorry I accidentally broke your DJ setup thing because I spilled Coke on it I'll buy you new ones I swear"_. Then, _"You're so great at fencing and my childhood best friend actually really likes you so maybe you'd want to go on a date with her some time? I swear her personality can be endearing."_ And yet another, _"I'm sorry the apartment smells like camembert my cat's kinda obsessed with it and won't eat anything else"_.

With every insanely specific scenario, Marinette always manages to make the perfect bouquet to suit the occasion.

So he keeps coming back.

.

.

It's a few months into their friendship when Marinette realizes that she slipped up.

"She got mad at me today."

Marinette looks up from the flower arrangement, eyebrows wrinkling together. "Who?"

"Chloé," he replies. "The one you made the bouquet for last week?"

"Ah, _yeah_ ," she vaguely remembers making a bouquet that meant something along the lines of, _'it's our one-year anniversary and I want to tell you I love you'_. (She was only much too relieved to find out it was his friend's request, not his own.)

"The yellow roses. How'd that go?"

Adrien stares at her, expression almost scarily blank. "Actually, they had a fight."

"... oh."

_Oh no._

"Yeah," he drawls on. "Kagami thought she was _cheating_ on her."

"... is that so?"

_Now she's done it._

"Turns out that yellow roses mean a decrease of love or infidelity." Adrien continues, definitely becoming aware of the sudden panic she's feeling. "Which I thought, _weird_ , because the florist told me they mean true love."

"Haha…"

"So, any idea how that ended up?"

"Well…"

" _Well…"_

"So _funny story_ — so maybeI'm not the flower language expert I claimed to be at the start…"

" _Maybe?_ "

"Okay, not at all but…"

_Cat's out of the bag now._

.

.

Adrien hasn't visited in weeks.

As it turns out, her love story ends before it actually even starts. (Serves her right for lying, after all.)

Marinette sighs, walking up to the flower shop.

After Alya had found out about what she'd been up to, she insisted that Marinette show up early to check up on their stocks and clean up before opening.

" _It's the least you could do after partially ruining our reputation."_

Fair.

But what surprises her is someone waiting outside.

"... _Adrien?_ "

He smiles, walking up to her. "Hey."

"What are you doing here? I thought you… I… not talking anymore…?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't visited in _weeks_! I thought you _hated_ me."

" _No_ ," he explains, visibly confused. "I went to New York with my dad. I couldn't message you because I only had your number. But I messaged you before I left?"

"What? No you didn't—"

Marinette fishes out her phone, adamant on proving him wrong, when her messages betray her.

 **CUTE FLOWER BOY:** Hi! I'll be out of the country for a bit, so maybe you could message me online? I think we still have a lot to talk about after how it ended up last time I went. :( Add me [here]!

"I— uh…"

" _Cute flower boy_ , huh?"

"Wait, that's so embarrassing _ohmygod_ …"

Adrien laughs, and Marinette finds that she's missed it. " _I like it._ I'm flattered, thanks."

"So…"

"So…?"

"What are you doing here?"

He looks almost nervous. "Well," he starts, before awkwardly coughing. "I was thinking about you the whole trip I was away."

"... _huh?_ "

"Yeah," Adrien laughs. "I missed you a lot." He pauses, then reveals a small rose hidden in the palm of his hand.

"What's this?"

"A rose. The right-coloured one, this time."

"Wait, so…"

Marinette can't process this. She's confident that she's the color of the rose at this point; maybe even a thousand or more shades even darker.

"I'm not sure I understand…"

"Come on, I'm sure even _you_ know what a red rose means."

"But I—"

"I love you." Adrien smiles, taking her hand and holding the rose between them. "And I'll gladly spend the rest of my life giving you every kind of flower that tells you how much you mean to me."

"No yellow flowers, though?"

He laughs. _"Never_ yellow flowers." Then, Adrien looks into her eyes, filled with hope and love and _sunshine_. "So what do you say?"

Marinette doesn't speak.

Not a single word.

Instead, she tiptoes upward, all of a sudden pressing a kiss to his lips.

" _I love you too."_

**_._ **

**_._ **

**_._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel better now :-)) so here's some fluffy wholesome adrinette content ! (though ngl yesterday i was very much thinkin of d-wording the love square again ,, somewhere along the lines of buying flowers for her grave or smth --- but o well the angst will not be missed !)
> 
> ive never gotten flowers :\\\ people always assumed i liked chocolate more which was a bold faced LIE . give me a bouquet w corny flower meanings & i will 99% fall in love w you (as long as the meanings r nice and researched yk dont imitate marinette in this fic) anyway, az usual:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	14. 14 - social media

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Marinette accidentally replies to Chat Noir on her personal account, to nobody’s surprise, shenanigans ensue.
> 
> **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**social media**

_call me, beep me,  
if you wanna reach me._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**@TheLadyblog:** SPOTTED! 🐞 Our favorite superhero duo spending the night together patrolling the streets of Paris!

**[Replies]**

**@chatonoir:** haha we look like a couple here

**@maridc:** Yeah... a couple of besties!

**(...)**

**@maridc:** WAIT

.

.

Marinette is panicking.

Which is normal because frankly, she's an extremely panicky person—

But this is something else _entirely._

Because for all her blunders and mistakes, accidentally replying to Chat Noir from her personal account is very likely the worst of them all.

She's only too glad that she doesn't have many followers.

It takes almost five minutes for her to realize her mistake and immediately delete the message.

_Maybe he didn't see it. Chat Noir has a lot of followers, after all. (Not as much as Ladybug, of course.) But him singling out her message, some nobody teenage girl from Paris, is completely unlikely._

Her phone rings.

**@chatonoir wants to send you a message!**

_Well_ , there goes her superhero identity down the drain.

.

.

**Chat Noir** _  
_@chatonoir

\- a couple of besties, huh?

Chat, I can explain…

\- do ladybug and i really look like we're just friends :(

WhaT

\- i thought we looked cute but i guess that was just me

…

Is that the only reason why you messaged me?

\- yeah why else would i have

…

NOTHING

Nothing at all! :-)

\- okay ,, ?

\- so …. do we really not look like we have chemistry? i think me holding her in my arms is _purr_ etty romantic

You're only doing that because she had cramps, though.

\- how did you know that?

UH

Alya told me! The owner of the Ladyblog?

She's a Ladybug superfan, and happened to tell me in passing.

\- oh yeah alya does know a lot about us

You know her?

\- uh

\- of course ! she's my favorite reporter :)

She does throw herself into danger a lot, though.

\- yeah, she should really stop doing that nino keeps worrying

You know Nino? And their relationship?

\- YEAH

\- REMEMBER OBLIVIO?

\- FIGURED THEY WERE DATING FROM THERE :DD

… Okay?

Calm down on the uppercase, it hurts to see the letters screaming at me like that.

\- oh, sorry

\- didnt know that made you uncomfortable

Well, we don't really know each other, after all.

\- right!

HAha, exactly!

.

.

The next day in class, Madame Bustier has them form groups and write their favorite phrases on a piece of paper.

When Nino starts writing 'ÊTRE CREVÉ', Adrien offers to write instead, pointing out that he has better handwriting.

Marinette watches with interest as he puts down his favorite phrase.

_coup de foudre_

(love at first sight)

.

.

**Chat Noir** _  
_@chatonoir

\- i dont get why you dont just tell him:\\\

I told you, he doesn't like me that way!

\- you cant be sure until you ASK

\- marinette dupain-cheng go out there and ask your crush out on a date

\- get a boyfriend i feel sorry for you

Bold words for someone who's also single?

\- for NOW

\- ladybug and my story has just begun3

Hasn't she been clear enough about her feelings already?

\- i know, but you cant help who youre in love with right?

Right.

.

.

"Adrien, do you, _uh_ , want to get some ice cream together at Andre's later?!"

He looks up in surprise, then smiles. "Sounds perfect!" Adrien beams. "My fencing classes cancelled, so I'm free! Let's call Alya and Nino; maybe they can go too—

" _Actually!_ " 'Marinette starts, looking down almost bashfully. "I was hoping it could just be the two of us…"

"Oh?"

"... _justasfriendsofcoursenothingmoreobviously!_ "

Adrien smiles again, though it's the slightest bit more teasing than usual.

"Sure," he replies. "Let's go after class."

.

.

**Chat Noir** _  
_@chatonoir

\- hey, are you okay?

Haha, how did you know?

\- call it a cat's intuition

\- want to talk about it?

He loves someone else.

\- i'm sorry

…

What are you sorry for? It's not your fault. :)

\- right…

Well, I guess it's just time to move on, then?

I'm sure there are better people for me out there!

\- how are you so positive after having your heart broken?

I learned it from you.

And besides, soulmates always find a way to come back to each other.

.

.

She doesn't want to know his true identity, at first.

But Tikki is adamant that the Guardian needs to know _all_ holders. Including him.

"It's not fair that I get to know who he is, when he doesn't even know the _real_ me."

"You're okay with hiding it from Kagami, Nino— even Alya! What makes him so different?"

She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because it's Chat Noir. He's my _partner_."

"Well, nobody's stopping you from telling him."

"You won't stop me?"

"That's not something I get to decide. What does your heart tell you, Marinette?"

"..."

When Chat Noir detransforms into Adrien Agreste in front of her, the first thing Ladybug does is run.

.

.

\- are you okay?

\- marinette?

\- please, not you too

\- i cant stand losing you too

…

\- i miss you

_Message seen._

.

.

**@OfficialLadybug** **wants to message you.**

\- I'm sorry for running away.

i would like an explanation

\- And I'll give you one. I just want to say this:

**-** I missed you too.

…

… are you serious?

\- I did say soulmates always find a way to come back to each other, after all.

\- I'm sorry I just took a little longer to do it.

\- _Fur_ give me?

hdkdnc you KNOW how weak i am for cat puns

\- :D

\- So… we're good?

FINE.

but on one condition.

.

.

**@TheLadyblog:** SPOTTED! 🐞 Our favorite superhero duo spending the night together patrolling the streets of Paris!

**[Replies]**

**@chatonoir:** haha we look like a couple here

**@OfficialLadybug:** Yeah… we do. <3

"Are you happy now?"

"I'm _feline_ amazing."

"... you're lucky I love you."

"I know," Adrien grins, before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. He smiles at her flustered expression. _"I really am."_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> furgive me for the short fic? (ew @ self leave the cat puns to chat noir) lmaosks had a really busy day today:(
> 
> also wanna take this opportunity to say here how grateful i am for the comments n kudos (i passed 100 before the halfway point thank u so much!!!) this week has been taxing in All Aspects— i still have a ton to do tomorrow :”)) but knowing there r ppl enjoying what i write makes everything seem worth it!<3 i’ll try replying to all of u soon,, as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	15. 15 - mythical creatures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard not to believe in the supernatural when the supernatural's talking to you like everything's absolutely normal.
> 
> (alternatively: Marinette is a paranormal vlogger who meets Adrien The Friendly Ghost.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**mythical creatures**

_how i miss yesterday,  
and how i'd let it fade away._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE Agreste Mansion could have been beautiful,** if not for the overgrown greenery and rusted fence that decorate the estate's exterior.

It looks like the textbook definition of what a haunted house is.

Marinette should be scared.

Instead, she takes out her cellphone, turns it on, faces the camera, and...

Goes live.

"Hey everyone, Marinette here!" She starts, waving almost awkwardly at the camera. _(Thousands of viewers come storming into the live in second.)_ "So… welcome to the Ladybug— _crap_ , I mean, the Ladyblog!"

Noticing that the camera is angled a little too low, she shifts to show herself better.

( _Wow_ , she really is bad at this.)

"As you all know, or maybe you don't, _haha_ … I'm heading the vlog for today!" She tries to smile, but it's clearly panicked. "Alya couldn't come back with me to Paris, unfortunately, and you all _really_ wanted to see us cover the Agreste story so…," she moves along with the camera, trying to show off her surroundings.

(Nobody watching has the heart to tell her they can't see anything because her head's covering half the screen.)

"I'll be heading this adventure myself!" Marinette scratches her head awkwardly, and almost drops her phone as she hears a sudden _crack!_ behind her. _"Ohmygod what was that_ _—_ "

She immediately turns the camera, only to notice a black cat pass behind her.

Its vivid green eyes almost make her shudder.

"Black cat," Marinette mutters to herself. " _Sure_ , like I didn't know this was a terrible idea already.

She remembers a little too late that she's still online.

"I _mean!_ This is going to be fun! Let's do this!"

The chatbox is filled with messages, but they all really say the same thing:

_This is going to be a trainwreck._

_But I am going to enjoy absolutely every minute of it._

(She pointedly ignores these messages and goes forward.)

Marinette walks towards the estate, using a key to unlock the rusted gate to the Agreste residence.

"If you're all wondering how I got entry to this place," she starts. "One of our subscribers actually helped us out," she turns towards the camera and smiles. "So _Chloé Bourgeois_ , thanks a lot!"

( _Yeah_ , thanks for giving her no choice but to go through with this video.)

"If it weren't for you, this video wouldn't be possible at all."

The gate opens with a resounding _creaaaaak_ and Marinette has to force the unbothered smile on her face.

"Alright, let's go in."

**.**

**.**

**.**

[ INSTAGRAM STORY: maribug ]

" _Hi guys! In case you don't know the story of the Agrestes, please swipe up with an article Alya wrote on the story below. As usual, be warned for creepy content!"_

**The Mysterious Disappearances of the Agreste Family**

Almost five years ago, the Agrestes were the so-called _'it family'_ of Paris, France. Their family consisted of top fashion designer Gabriel, his beautiful wife, Emilie, and their only son, Adrien— a teenage model for his father's brand early on. In the public's eyes, this was a picture-perfect family.

However, this was soon revealed to be a ruse.

In 20XX, Emilie Agreste suddenly passed away. The family refused to comment and held a private funeral. A few weeks later, residents were surprised to find large fences erected around the residence, gating outsiders from entering the home. Father and son withdrew from contact with the outside world, aside from secretary Nathalie Sanceour and Adrien Agreste's unnamed personal bodyguard, nicknamed 'The Gorilla'.

Any media or news shared about the family were quickly taken down. For a long time, any and all information about the death of Emilie Agreste was removed— presumably by the husband himself.

News on the Agrestes stayed quiet for a year, until Adrien was spotted attending a local high school.

This was only for a day. After finding out about Adrien's attempted "escape", he was quickly returned to the premises and brought home.

The school refused to comment when we asked for an interview.

Due to limited information, little is known about what happened next.

The most accepted story, however, is that after Adrien was returned home, the Agrestes completely dropped off the radar. Even Gabriel Agreste was completely unreachable to his company.

Both Nathalie Sancoeur and 'The Gorilla' we're suddenly fired and removed from the premises without warning.

After a year of silence from the family, Sancoeur was finally given a warrant to enter the Agreste Mansion with the police force.

The mansion was empty. In fact, it seemed that nobody had occupied the space in months. A written report states that a cup of coffee Sancoeur remembers making from Mr. Agreste, on the day of her sudden termination, remained to be on his desk.

No sign of forced entry or violence was taken note of. They had just… disappeared.

A nationwide search was held to find the father-son duo, but to no avail. They were not found alive nor dead. The police soon branded this a cold case and filed it away.

Sancoeur was given control over the Agreste brand. 'The Gorilla' was also rehired to be her assistant.

Both declined to comment and continue to avoid topics talking about the Agreste family.

The mansion has been left untouched since then.

_Until now._

(Please follow TheLadyblog on Instagram, tomorrow by 8PM vlogger Marinette Dupain-Cheng will visit the abandoned residence!)

.

.

The house is huge.

Marinette enters into a large foyer, run-down from years of neglect and disrepair. The pristine white of the walls have faded into a dull gray, complemented with spiderwebs in almost every corner. She holds her flashlight almost like a weapon.

Then, she switches to the front camera and shows the audience her surroundings.

"As you can see, the house seems untouched from when its previous owners lived here," Marinette begins, holding back the need to shudder. "Chloé messaged me that she ensured nobody else lived or even came in its vicinity," she explains, her tone turning more empathetic. "Apparently she and Adrien used to be friends, and she's still hoping that he'll come back to claim the house someday."

(Personally, Marinette doesn't think that he will— doesn't think he _can_ , really— but decides to keep that little fact to herself.)

She turns the camera back to her.

"So anyway, I was given a floor plan to the building," she continues, raising up a piece of paper and showing it to her viewers. "Since the mansion is _huge_ , and I can't possibly visit all the rooms tonight, tell me where you want to go!"

The comments flood in, and the answer is unanimous:

_The previous room of Adrien Agreste._

.

.

Marinette opens the door carefully.

The door squeaking isn't that loud, but it echoes throughout the corridor and makes things _so much creepier_ than they have to be.

She bites her lip, and enters the room— which takes up almost the _entire_ second floor story.

Arcade stations, computers, games, books, and CDs fill up the entire floor. A television screen almost three times bigger than she is lays upon the wall. A basketball half-court decorates one side of the room. There are more doors which likely lead to other things to see, but she decides to check that later on.

"Okay, I don't think I'll do this room justice with a phone camera and a flashlight for lighting, but this is _amazing_ ," Marinette raves. "I feel like this is a teenage boy's dream room. Honestly, it's _my_ dream room." She laughs to herself lightly, turning the front camera on. "Though I'd maybe change out the basketball court for my personal sewing space."

(Marinette briefly wonders why anyone would want to leave such a place, but dismisses the thought almost immediately; realizing that none of it could be enjoyed at all if she were alone.)

In fact, standing in the middle of it at that moment made her feel much lonelier than she was previously.

_Except, she's not alone._

But Marinette's too busy looking around to notice the increasingly panicked messages of her viewers:

_do yall_

_u all see that right….._

_ohmygod is-_

_IS THAT REAL WTH_

_MARINETTE OMG_

_PLEASE TURN AROUND_

_RUN? DONT LOOK BACK?_

_PROTECT OUR SWEET SUMMER CHILD_

_I CANNOT WATCH ANOTHER LIVE WHERE SOMEONE GETS MURDERED PLS_

_CHECK UR MESSAGES GIRL !_

Noticing her phone buzz with messages, she clicks on the tab that opens them.

Marinette's eyebrows wrinkle together.

"What are you guys talking abou—"

A scream, the sound of her phone cracking, and the live video suddenly being turned off.

_well, there goes ½ of the ladyblog…_

.

.

Alya wakes up to her phone overflowing with messages.

The first one she reads is extremely straightforward:

_HELP I THINK MARINETTE'S DEAD_

So understandably, she does what any good friend would do.

Think it's a prank set up by Marinette (for making her hold the live without her), get irritated, send her a _'haha nice try mari but dead is a stretch'_ message, then immediately go back to sleep.

Marinette, however, never gets the message.

.

.

It's easy to panic when death's staring you right in the face.

So she does, because death is quite _literally_ staring right at her.

In the form of a sixteen-year-old boy whose face she knew _all too well_ from all the hidden fashion magazines her teenage self hid under her bed.

_Adrien Agreste._

(Well, at least now the question of did-he-live was answered. A stone-cold, dead, _nope_!)

And also, ghosts really _do_ exist— who knew?

(The so-called paranormal expert didn't, apparently.)

The ghost moves toward her, as she scrambles away, her back suddenly hitting the wall.

"Please, if you're gonna kill me, do it _quick_ ," Marinette replies, rushing through the words. "I don't know how angry you ghosts are, but I swear _violence isn't the answer_. It'll solve nothing and make me dead so let's maybe move away from that—"

Adrien tilts his head, and it almost looks _human_. (Maybe if his head hadn't done a complete three-sixty at that exact moment, she would've calmed down. Instead, and understandably, she panics _more._ )

"Hey, hey! Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you."

"You aren't?" She asks, then suddenly horrified (and almost embarrassed), covers her body with her hands. "Don't possess me! Look, I'm a klutz and have literally _no_ coordination. You don't want me! Actually, I can get you better bodies! I have this friend named Alya…"

(Marinette isn't sure why, but she feels extremely irritated with her best friend for some reason.)

The ghost laughs.

And it doesn't echo _ohmygod_ he really is dead and she really is going to die and _all this drama for a bunch of views what has she become—_

He floats closer to her, and smiles. "I won't possess you either," he replies. "You can keep your body."

"... _then_ , what do you want?"

"Well, I don't really want anything."

"Really?"

He looks almost amused. "I mean, _you_ were the one who broke into my house. I guess I'd like to know why."

Okay, _fair_.

Marinette looks almost sheepish when she responds, realizing how _dumb_ her reasoning actually is:

"Well, I'm a paranormal vlogger…"

.

.

Marinette has done a lot of strange things in her life.

But this— talking to a ghost about _YouTube_ of all things, is probably the weirdest of all.

(The really terrifying thing about it was how _comfortable_ she actually felt about it.

Talking to Adrien was terribly easy that you couldn't help but let your guard down.)

He looks at her with wide-eyed awe. "That's amazing! And I can't believe _I_ get to be included in your video!"

She smiles lightly. "Well, you _are_ kind of a big deal…"

"I never knew fashion meant that much to so many people!"

(The truth was that they knew Adrien because of his disappearance and the conspiracy around his family, but she decides against mentioning it. Though, it's quite strange to be so cautious of hurting a _ghost_ , of all things.)

"Yeah," Marinette replies instead. "I used to collect your magazines, you know?"

Adrien brightens up. "Dang, you're a _fan_ of me?" He bows down, and his head almost falls over. (She finds herself _laughing._ ) "I'm honored, milady."

" _Milady?_ " She asks teasingly. "What era are you from?"

"Hey—! Technically, we're the same age." He protests, before suddenly quieting down. "I guess I'd be twenty now, huh?"

The mood shifts, and Marinette can't do anything about it.

"... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he only says. "I guess I'm just a little sad that I never really got to experience being a teenager. Y'know, being _normal._ " He laughs to himself. "And even after death, I'm _still not_. Being stuck here and all."

Quiet.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened…?" Marinette begins, her voice soft. "Not that you have to answer but… it was so sudden when everyone got the news you were gone."

Adrien sighs. "I'm not sure myself," he explains. "My dad… he thought there was some way to bring her back. Bring _my mom_ back to life. And he did things, some _dark_ things, but they didn't work… and before I knew it, he was gone, and I was stuck like this."

He gestures down at himself. "I can't even leave the house, can you believe it? I've just been here and alone for years…" Then, a smile. "Until you came along."

"I'm glad I can be of some company," Marinette replies, smiling back.

(It's strange— _so strange_ , but she feels connected to him in ways she's never felt connected to anyone.)

"I'm glad that the company who showed up was you."

At that, Marinette decides on an idea.

She stands, and gestures for him to follow.

"You're a ghost, so you can't touch things, right?"

"Yeah… but I can move them. I learned a lot of _ghost skills_ while I was stuck here."

She smiles. _"Great."_

"What do you mean?"

Marinette walks over to the foosball table, groaning from years of neglect, and places her hands on it. "I may not be able to bring you back, but I can let you experience what it feels like to be a teenager." She tilts her head, pointing towards the game.

"Let's play?"

.

.

They play games late at night and into the early hours of the morning.

Marinette has never seen someone enjoy her company that much— like she had given him the whole world, and everything he'd ever wanted.

It makes her heart soar, to see him so happy.

They take a break as the clock tells them it's almost three in the morning.

Marinette settles into the couch, with Adrien lying down as he floats over her.

"I'm sorry you had to play with me," she starts. "Not really great at sports. And I can get _pretty intense_ when it comes to online games."

Adrien only smiles at her, without a hint of irritation or regret. " _No,_ this was perfect. It's the most fun I've had in a long time." He laughs. "Maybe _ever_. And I'll never forget this, no matter how long I stay like this."

She frowns as the words leave his mouth.

(Wasn't the thing tying him to the real world his failure to experience his life as a teenager?)

Marinette says it aloud.

"If only it were that simple," he responds, almost sad. "But I don't think that was ever the reason."

"Then what is it?"

"..."

"Adrien?"

"..."

"I won't judge it or anything. _Please,_ I want to help."

Adrien sighs, then looms over her, the expression on his face almost breaking her heart. "It's corny, but… I wanted to experience _love_." He finally says. "After my mom died, I was locked away. I never felt my dad's love, and Nathalie _cared_ for me, but that was it. My mom was the last person who ever loved me. I just wish I could've experienced that feeling one more time."

"...

 _I loved you._ "

"What?"

Marinette looks up at him, vulnerable. Her hands curl up into balls as they grab at the couch.

"I don't know if you remember me," she begins shakily. "But I was _there_ that day you went to the high school."

"..."

"It was raining. And it was only for a moment, but you lent me your umbrella because I forgot mine," she laughs to herself. "I'm sure you don't remember me but…"

" _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_."

"... how did you know that?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he repeats. "I remember that name. I talked to Miss Bustier over the phone then, and she told me you were the first person I should find when I came to class. She told me you'd make me feel right at home. Adrien looks up at her, and smiles. "I guess she was right."

At that, Marinette feels her mouth tilt upward. "Took you a long time to find me, huh?"

"Better late than never, though?"

They share a laugh, before Adrien continues. "I was really looking forward to meeting you," he says. "And somehow, I _knew_ it was you when I gave that umbrella. You just gave that feeling of _home_ Miss Bustier was talking about… and I was so _desperate_ to have you know me that the umbrella was my way of doing so. Even if I never gave my name, I hoped that somehow, in some way, you'd remember me." He smiles. "And you did."

"... I don't know what to say."

"I think I loved you then," Adrien says, almost to himself. "I just didn't know it yet."

They stare at each other for a moment, and Marinette feels her heart break and be whole at the same time.

The sun starts to show itself, peeking through the clouds.

"... I won't see you again anymore, will I?"

Adrien doesn't even have to nod for her to know his answer.

"Maybe I'll take back my, 'I love you', then."

He laughs.

"I don't like having to lose you all over again."

He makes his way to her, then presses a kiss to her forehead.

(She knows that ghosts can't touch her, but the warmth that spreads from his touch isn't anything short of _real_.)

"Good luck with your YouTube channel."

It's Marinette's turn to laugh.

"Are you sure those are what you want your last words to be?"

Adrien hums.

"I guess you're right," he replies softly. "I'll go with this then:

 _I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng_."

And as the sun rises, she suddenly finds herself alone.

.

.

Marinette rushes home to use her laptop.

She scrolls through the messages— all assuming she's died, and dials a number she knows by heart.

"Oh _thank God_ you're alive, I was so worried about you!"

"I saw your message, Alya."

"Oh. Haha, _well_! How was I supposed to believe that an actual _ghost_ showed up on your live?"

"I guess you're right."

"... so, _is it true?_ Was the ghost real? Is the Agreste mansion _haunted?_ "

Marinette pauses.

Then, almost too softly for her to hear, she says it:

" _Not anymore."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally have a break tomorrow aaaa exciting ! (but rlly im gonna spend majority of tomorrow just passed out on my bed & it'll be absolutely Amazing:) ALSO OHMYGOD DIS IS 3K WORDS ? damn i need to Chill on a normal day this would be worth like ,, 3 chapters already aksnsn
> 
> anyway do ghosts count as mythical creatures ? i assume yes bc i really want to write this fic (inspired by buzzfeed unsolved; aka the SECOND time this show has somehow slithered into my writing) ;u; i actually enjoyed writing this a lot but got limited by time to expound properly which is sadt . but i still like it a lot so !
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	16. 16 - magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien chooses a ladybug as a familiar (except that he doesn't; _not exactly_ , at least.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**magic**

_feel the early morning madness,  
feel the magic in the making._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **OF all things, why choose** _ **that**_ **as your familiar?"**

Adrien sighs, for what is likely the hundredth time for that day, watching as the familiar crawls up his arm. He can almost see Chloé's disgusted expression, but pointedly decides to ignore it. "I told you Chlo, it's a _she_. And I'm not sure _why_ I chose her— I just felt the connection Ma'am Bustier spoke about, and it just _happened_. I don't get why you can't just accept that."

She raises an eyebrow at his irritated tone, before shaking her head. "It's just that this isn't what _anyone_ expected you to choose, Adrikins," she points out. "I thought you'd have chosen something more majestic, like a lion. Didn't you always like cats?" Chloé shivers, then gestures at his arm. "Choosing some common _ladybug_ … that's not like you."

He just shrugs, exhausted from even trying to protest. She notices his tired expression, then sighs, putting a hand to her hips. "Look, even if you don't believe it, I'm just worried about you," she tells him. "You know that Ma'am Bustier's test is worth a huge chunk of our grade. If you fail to connect properly with your… familiar, then you'll fail." Chloé frowns, and for once, it's a look of actual and genuine concern. "Your dad's never going to let you come back if you do."

At that, he smiles, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. (One she almost immediately shakes away, not wanting any way to bridge her to his familiar. _She's always hated insects._ )

"Thanks for the concern, Chlo," he starts, before nuzzling close to the insect. "But I don't need it. Ladybug and I are going to crush it."

"You named your ladybug… _Ladybug_?"

"Says the girl who literally named her familiar, _dragon child_."

"Hey! Ryuuko's a name fit for a queen! And at least _my_ familiar is befitting of my status. A dragon is all-powerful, royal, and regal. What about a ladybug? What's _she_ good for?"

Adrien shrugs, easily answering the question:

"She's my lucky charm."

.

.

"Alright bugaboo, ready for this?"

As the moon shines through the courtyard, Adrien kneels down and touches the ground with his fingers. Ladybug rests upon his shoulder as he closes his eyes, muttering a few choice unintelligible words to himself.

Then:

" _Cataclysm."_

The ground shakes and the grass starts to rot, spreading rapidly and intensely… until it stops only a few feet away.

Opening his eyes and walking over to the edge of his spell, Adrien sighs at the result.

"Not strong enough," he mutters to himself, evidently disappointed.

The ladybug crawls over to his cheek, almost as if to give him an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

He smiles.

"You're right," he replies, getting back on his knees. "Let's do this again."

.

.

Adrien spends the next few months practicing.

He spends every waking moment with Ladybug, working with her to improve his _cataclysm_ , then spending the rest of the day spending time and taking care of her (Ma'am Bustier had told them improving relations with a familiar was important; the more trust and loyalty to each other, the better their magic would work together)— but to no avail.

His spell's strength and attack range was still small, with the date of their exam rapidly approaching.

Chloé mouths on about how she was right, how choosing a ladybug was a terrible idea, and how he was going to fail if he continued to stubbornly choose to stay with his familiar.

Usually, the words roll right off his back and he ignores it.

But this time, he finds that maybe she isn't completely off-base at all.

 _Maybe this wasn't a perfect match, after all_.

.

.

Ma'am Bustier tells him to 'talk' to her.

He finds it silly— absurdly so, to speak to a ladybug as if it were a human; but decides to do it as a last-ditch effort.

He leans his head on his arms, watching as the ladybug moves back and forth on his desk.

"Hey bugaboo."

_Silence._

"I don't know if you can understand me, but well, we're going to try anyway. Okay?"

Ladybug stops in place, and he assumes it's as good a sign as any to go on.

"I really need help," Adrien starts. "I can't fail this test. It's… let's just say, I'll never become a warlock if I don't ace this."

Ladybug is quiet. _(He doesn't expect her to speak, of course, but a flap of her wings or some bzzz would help a lot.)_

"Please," he tries to say. "I know you felt it too, right? We're meant to work together. I'll do anything for you to help me out."

She only stays in place, before flying upward and landing on his nose.

He can't see her without crossing his eyes together, and laughs.

The ladybug flaps its wings, then crawls on his shoulder.

Adrien smiles. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

.

.

The day of the exam, Adrien is nervous.

He's put all his trust and faith into his familiar, but he's not that confident she's done the same. (If she even could— honestly, Adrien was starting to think all of this familiar stuff was more insane than the fact he could destroy things with his fingertips.)

"Next… Mister Agreste, and his familiar a—," the announcer coughs, then almost confused, says the next words. "A… _ladybug_. Okay, then. Please show us what you've practiced."

He kneels downward, and touches the ground.

Ladybug crawls down, lying upon his fingertips. (Almost as if she were holding his hand to guide him.)

He closes his eyes, whispers the words, and feels the magic course through his veins, moving to his hand.

It's a calm, swirling, black, as usual.

Nothing new.

But then:

_An explosion of deep, scarlet, red._

The sudden attack lightning shoots through his body, and he feels almost every part of himself buzz with untapped energy.

_It's like nothing he's ever felt before._

He almost falls back, before noticing a girl in red stand in front of him.

_Why does she look so familiar?_

The girl grabs his hand and pulls him up, then orders him. "Keep chanting."

Adrien does. It's overwhelming, he's almost thrown over, but somehow, he shouts the words.

" _ **Cataclysm."**_

.

.

The exam arena is covered with smoke.

Adrien vaguely hears someone say a spell to clear the air, but he's fallen over and almost loses consciousness.

The last thing he sees is Ladybug, crawling over to his cheek.

.

.

When Adrien wakes up, the first thing he notices is the lack of weight— however light it is, on his shoulder.

He immediately panics.

" _Where's Ladybug?"_

The doctors tell him to calm down, to rest, but he can't. Not now, not yet, not when he had unanswerable questions about his familiar and the girl and how it all tied together.

Someone takes out their wand, and casts a spell for sleep.

He passes out.

.

.

Ma'am Bustier is there to greet him the next time he wakes up.

"Are you feeling better, Adrien?"

He only nods, then clutches his head. "What happened?"

She stays quiet for a moment, staring him in the eye, before calmly beginning to explain to him. "Your cataclysm destroyed the whole arena."

" _What…?"_ Adrien looks up at her, disbelieving, before shaking his head. "No, I… I never meant for it to become that strong. I just lost control, see, there was this girl and Ladybug, she… _Ladybug._ My familiar, _where is she?_ "

"You don't have a familiar, Adrien—"

" _What do you mean, Ladybug was right there and I have to know if she's okay…_ if I hurt her during that blast or…"

Ma'am Bustier grabs him suddenly, effectively calming him down. Her smile is kind, and he finds his feelings of panic slowly ebb away.

"Ladybug was never your familiar."

"I just said no, she's…"

"Ladybug is human."

"What?"

.

.

Ma'am Bustier explains to him that no warlock could have done such intense damage alone; even with a familiar, such heights of destruction was unheard of.

The only way that was possible were if two extremely powerful magicians had created the spell together.

She tells him that Ladybug had never been his familiar.

He doesn't know what to believe.

A sudden knock on his room, and in enters a young girl, about his age, nervously looking down at the floor.

She's barefoot and links her fingers together, her clothes a dark red, in sharp contrast with the blue of her eyes.

From her hunched figure, Adrien can almost see who he'd spent the past few months with.

"I don't know if you can tell it's me, but…"

Adrien smiles softly, and takes her hands.

"Ladybug."

" _Adrien_."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my brain juice is running out… but we r halfway thru and there is absolutely nothing in this world that'll make me stop now. (my work and studies might be yelling into the void but yk what i deserve FUN) !
> 
> anyway i hated this but that's the ~joy~ of monthly challenges you cant edit them until the month is over amirite :'))) hskdfjs but dont worry tomorrow is gonna be better i actually have a plot in mind for that one & i think it'll be a good read! but yea, as always ::
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	17. 17 - masquerade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After quarantine is lifted, Mayor Bourgeois holds a _wear your-mask_ erade, with guests of honor Ladybug and Chat Noir.
> 
> (Or, the author is tired of people not taking this pandemic seriously so please stop being dramatic and start wearing your masks, thank you!)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**masquerade**

_you'll wind up like the wreck you hide,  
behind that mask you use._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **IT'S a masquerade, but it's unique because this time the masks aren't over your eyes, but they're over your** _ **mouth**_ **."**

Nadja Chamack is visibly thrown, but maintains her calm attitude as she adjusts the face mask on her lips. "Well, that certainly is something… _new_ ," she finally decides to respond. "What made you decide on such a theme for the Mayor's— your father's annual Presidential Ball?"

Chloé shrugs, rolling her eyes. "Well, obviously I wanted a _normal_ event, but that's impossible because of this stupid virus," she says, annoyingly clicking her tongue. "So I suggested that we do this instead."

"Alright then," Nadja remarks, before taking out a remote that controlled the large screen behind them. "Now, we have here some questions from Parisians who want to know more about the impending ball."

" _Whatever_ ," she only scoffs, before turning her head to face the screen.

 **[USER 1]:** I don't understand why you don't just hold a regular event. Quarantine is lifted already, we don't need to be cautious anymore.

"Ha!" She snorts, shaking her head. "Are you insane? Just because quarantine's over doesn't mean we can just pretend _nothing happened_."

 **[USER 2]:** But there's a vaccine and cure already available, right? Just have everyone take it, it's not that hard.

"Not everyone can, though," Chloé snaps at the screen. "Daddy's working hard to make it available for the public, but there are still people out there who can't access it. Try thinking about someone other than yourself for a change?"

 **[USER 3]:** You're not even properly informed. Masks aren't good for anyone, they just make the virus worse—

Nadja shuts the screen closed, evidently aware of how irritated her special guest is becoming.

"Chloé, now…"

One can almost see the cartoonish tick that appears on her forehead. "Is this really what most of you believe? No wonder daddy's tired all the time, it's because some of you are so _foolish_ as to think…"

"Chloé, we have another guest who—"

" _No more guests_ ," she seethes, whipping her head to the screen:

Only to come face-to-face with her personal idol.

(And Chat Noir, but… _eh._ )

"We got your invite, Chloé, and we'd love to go. It's a good advocacy that you're working toward, and we appreciate it!"

Ladybug smiles at the camera, with Chat enthusiastically doing a _thumbs up_ in the background.

"See you then! Bug out!"

.

.

"I've never seen you be so nice to Chloé," Chat Noir starts, as they carefully sit on the ledge. He wears a black face mask with a single green paw in the middle— a gift Ladybug had made him after learning how to make ones that actually _protected_ against the virus.

(Chat's only too happy that she had given him a gift at all.)

Ladybug shrugs. "I meant what I said," she says easily. "At least she's taking this pandemic seriously. And I like what their event stands for."

"Why don't they just cancel it, though?"

"Apparently they can't," she sighs. "The ball is necessary for Mayor Bourgeois' to maintain good relations with other leaders. But they're pulling out _all_ the stops— having everyone tested, ensuring they've taken vaccines, social distancing… Chloé really doesn't want anyone to think they're just making light of the virus."

"Didn't expect that from her, huh?"

"I still think she's entitled, but at least I know I can count on her when it's important."

As the sun starts to go down, Ladybug decides to stand up and lazily stretch her arms. "Anyway, I have to go kitty. I'll see you this weekend? The _Wear-A-Mask_ erade, don't forget!"

"I'm looking _fur_ ward to it!"

.

.

He decides to show up as Adrien Agreste first.

(Ladybug told him she'd show up later on in the evening, so he figures he has some time before Chat Noir was needed.)

Chloé almost clings to him when he enters, before immediately stopping herself a few feet away. Instead, she bows to him. "Thanks for coming, Adrien."

(She's become a lot nicer since she started hanging out with Kagami— he figures that her strict moral code of goodness has started rubbing off on his childhood friend.

The need for social distancing helped, too.)

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he only responds, looking in wonder at his surroundings.

Everyone's wearing a face mask, but it's all from designer brands and labels. (In fact, he spots quite a few Agreste masks being sported by the attendees.)

Adrien can clearly identify who's who, but ultimately decides that anonymity wasn't the purpose of the masquerade— _not of this one_ , at the very least.

Subconsciously, he lightly tugs on his own face mask, a white one with gold-colored embellishments, the undeniable _Agreste_ label placed at the very center.

(He only feels much too relieved that his father had consulted with medical professionals on ensuring the masks were at their most effective; and not simply used for their _aesthetic_ or _luxury_ designs.

— though, make no mistake, the prices for these masks still cost an _insane_ amount. "It's only right," his father tells him.

" _Capitalist,"_ Adrien only thinks back.)

He spends the next few hours speaking and socializing with the guests; especially in order to cement relationships and friendships with those who'd help his father's company.

It's tiring work, but he finds comfort that everyone is as careful as he is; maintaining distance as they speak, avoiding direct contact, and _never_ , not even for a moment, taking their masks off.

The cycle of exhaustion ends as soon as Ladybug enters the room— a bright red-and-black spotted mask covering her mouth.

Everyone immediately stops what they're doing, and almost begin to crowd her.

It's only Chloé's sharp and strict voice, _"Anyone who violates the social distancing rule will be promptly kicked out of the event"_ , that prevents them from moving any further.

Ladybug's relieved smile— though not directed at him, makes his spirit soar and his heart beat.

Adrien figures now is as good a time as any to transform into Chat Noir.

Excusing himself from a conversation, Adrien quickly runs off to the nearest empty bathroom and locks the door. He quickly changes face masks— _he prefers Ladybug's, of course_ — and transforms.

In a few minute, Chat Noir comes bursting through the entrance, altogether too-loudly announcing that "his lady's _purr_ ince has arrived."

.

.

The ball is fun, for the most part.

Except that Chloé keeps looking for Adrien and Ladybug keeps looking for Chat Noir so he finds himself more often in the bathroom transforming than much of anything else.

"You're going to have to retire _one of you_ soon, Adrien," Plagg sighs exhaustedly, after being detransformed the nth time that night. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this. Or how long _you_ can keep it up."

"What do you mean?" Adrien asks, breathing heavily as he leans over one of the sinks. "I'm fine!"

"No," his kwami starts slowly. "You're—"

An old man suddenly enters the bathroom, and Adrien almost panics. "Ahahahaha!" He laughs maniacally, before looking in the mirror. "You are really one funny guy, Adrien."

He turns briefly to the newcomer, then smiles somewhat insanely. "Just talking to my old pal over here," Adrien says, patting the mirror. "Talking to myself… you know, _like I always do._ "

The elderly man just stares blankly at him then nods slowly, before backing away. Adrien heaves a sigh of relief as he disappears— failing to notice the amused wink that the stranger throws toward his kwami.

As soon as he's gone, Plagg makes it a point to ensure the door is locked.

" _See_ , you even forgot to lock it this time!" He complains. "If not for Master— _my mastery of being a great kwami_ , then you would've been found out!

"That doesn't even make sense," Adrien argues. "And it's just an elderly man, I doubt he knows anything."

( _Well_ , Plagg begs to differ.)

"But _okay_ , this is the last time," he finally relents. "I'll stop Chat Noir, because Chloé expects me to stay until the end. I'm sure Ladybug will understand, okay?"

He picks up his mask from the sink, and puts it on.

Then— "Plagg, _claws out_!"

Adrien fails to notice his kwami's panicked expression as he gets sucked inside the ring.

.

.

Chat Noir finds Ladybug out in the hallway, other empty aside from the two of them. She's busily typing away at her miraculous, barely even noticing as he steps outside the bathroom.

"Milady, what are you doing alone on such a _mew_ tiful night?"

She rolls her eyes, barely letting her eyes rip away from the screen. "I'm not really one for parties," Ladybug replies easily. "I'll probably leave soon, too. What about you—"

As soon as she looks up to stare at him, the words die on her mouth.

Instead she stares at him— almost too intently, her eyes burning holes into his face.

( _Is this really happening? Is Ladybug… checking him out? Has she fallen for him the same way he's loved her for_ _ **months**_ —)

"I know that the glamour of the ball is tempting, but I'd never thought you'd stoop so low…"

_Huh._

"... as to literally _steal_ something, I mean, what is that supposed to be? You being a _cat burglar_ or something? That's not even all that clever…"

"Hey, wait…"

"... We're supposed to be _superheroes_ , Chat, I never thought you'd do something so…"

"Milady…"

"... and a _mask_ , of all things?! I thought you were taking this pandemic seriously— and parading around in someone else's mask is extremely irresponsible of you to…"

" _ **Ladybug."**_

"... what?"

" _What are you talking about?_ "

He stares at her, evidently confused, before her expression flattens and looks almost _angry_.

"I'm not dumb, Chat; everyone knows that's _Adrien Agreste's_ mask— it's originally designed by his father, and there's literally no other copy of it in this world. So you _definitely stole it from him_ …"

"But I didn't steal anything!"

Ladybug speaks first. "Then how would you explain wearing it around your neck?!"

"Maybe _think_ about other possibilities before assuming that I stole it?!" Chat Noir argues, shaking his head. "I thought you'd know me well enough to know that I'm not a _thief_ , Ladybug— in fact, I would never need to steal anything! I have enough money to last me a—

_Oh, wait._

_Oops._

"... what do you mean?"

"Haha, I was just kidding, I'm actually dirt poor and stole this mask! You should probably also look around for Adrien, he's passed out somewhere… in an alleyway… uh, _YEAH_ , so…"

"If you didn't take that mask, then there's only one possibility…"

" _No, no, don't connect the dots_ — leave the dots unconnected! Yeah, _social distance_ those dots! There's a virus going around, you know, so you shouldn't—"

" _ **Adrien?!"**_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone say… crack? hakckdks i rlly meant to make a serious fic but no i decided to make this as a psa instead that the virus still exists ! there is still a pandemic ! so stop being whiny, wear your masks, and only go out when necessary ! seeing people go out & act like nothing's happening just :) gives me such a headache :))
> 
> anw if this fic were real, ideally the ball wouldnt be held at all. but also keep in mind this is a crack fic & i very intensely wanted to write a face mask reveal coz that's just my personal brand of a Very Terrible Sense Of Humor.
> 
> chloé is absolutely right btw we stan a queen who takes this virus seriously33 but yes take this fic w a grain of salt (but take my warnings on being safe seriously) ! so yeaH:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	18. 18 - bookstore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Marinette finds a shelved notebook in the library, she assumes it's a mistake. But the optimistic, pun-obsessed, cat fanatic of an owner seems to think it's fate, instead.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**bookstore**

' _cause lately i don't even know,  
what page you're on._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE first thing Marinette thinks as she pulls out the notebook is,** _that doesn't belong there_.

And she's right— she knows the _Fu's Bookstore_ in and out; it's been her favorite place starting from when she discovered it in high school, and Marinette's practically lived there ever since.

(It's come to a point that some customers have assumed she's worked there, asking her questions as if she were an employee. Marinette still answers them even if she's not, just for the simple reason that she _can_.

Mister Fu doesn't mind either, assuring her that he loves the company and spirit she brings to the business.)

So Marinette always makes it a point to help whenever she can; her own personal way of saying _thank you_ for providing her with a second home.

Today, she's organizing the books and placing them on their proper shelves.

It only takes a moment for her to notice the out-of-place and bright red notebook peeking out from the selection for _Books About Superheroes_.

"Weird," she quietly mutters to herself, wondering if someone had left it behind by mistake.

_(But in case it was, then why would they_ _**shelf** _ _it, of all things?)_

Curiously, Marinette opens the notebook.

On the first page, written in almost perfect handwriting:

'Up for making a new friend?

If yes, turn the page and write something!

I think that together, we'll be _meow_ velous.'

On the bottom is a drawing of an all-too-familiar catlike superhero, but was depicted so poorly that she almost couldn't identify it at all.

Marinette sighs.

_Okay then. Guess she'll be writing something after all._

.

.

Adrien almost trips as he runs to the bookstore.

_Maybe today. Maybe today someone actually replied!_

He sneakily makes his way to the shelf, carefully watching to ensure that nobody's looking behind him. Adrien wraps the black jacket closer to his body in an attempt to hide himself.

Then, he opens the notebook.

First, he thinks with complete joy that, _someone read it! This actually worked! He'll have a new best friend like in those coming-of-age movies and—_

He flips to the next page.

'Please don't use the bookstore for your antics and jokes. I'll leave the notebook here for you to take back.

And _Chat Noir_ , really? We all know the superior hero, and it's not him.'

Drawn below is an extremely intricate drawing of Ladybug, the superheroine of the _Miraculous_ comic, arms out and holding her token yo-yo.

The sketch is so perfect that Adrien's tempted to rip the paper off and keep it for himself.

Instead, however, he decides to write back.

.

.

'Hey, it's not like I hate Ladybug, but we have to give Chat Noir some credit too! His puns are _purr_ fect; absolute comedy _gold_.

But I love your drawing! Are you an art major?'

'His puns aren't all that clever. And you're not that great either, come to think of it. Maybe you could learn from Ladybug and start speaking more seriously?

And not an art major, but I'm in fashion design. I just like sketching in my free time. _You_ , on the other hand? You could do with some practice. :-)'

'Then, teach me maybe?'

'Believe me, we're going to need a lot more notebooks if you want _that_ to happen.'

.

.

Marinette doesn't know what makes her keep replying.

Maybe she doesn't want to lose a possible customer. Maybe the boredom of summer was finally getting to her. Maybe it's the fact that she pitied him because of his poor drawing skills and pure _lack_ of taste in choosing superheroes.

Or maybe— _maybe_ it's because she wants to know more about the strangely-optimistic and overly-friendly mysterious boy hiding behind the notebook's cover.

They continue their writing exchange for months.

(And have consequently gone through their _fifth notebook_ to date. She figures that if they didn't doodle as much, they'd probably end up wasting much less paper.

But then again, Marinette _does_ like seeing his awkward drawings decorate the pages.)

.

.

Their first argument over paper starts when Bookstore Stranger uses two whole pages to draw Ladybug and Chat Noir— sharing a _kiss_.

She doesn't even compliment him on the drawing.

'WHY ARE THEY KISSING?'

'Why not? I think they're in love! :'

' _No_ , they're just partners by profession. A romantic relationship ruins their whole dynamic!'

'Well, I don't think that's true… if anything, that'd make their relationship _that much stronger_.'

'They don't even know each other beyond their masks! They can't possibly love each other without knowing their true identities.'

'So what? We don't know each other's real names.'

'Yeah, and we're not dating. Your point?'

The message doesn't come in the next day like it always does.

In fact, it doesn't come at all.

.

.

Marinette stops by the bookstore every morning.

Then every afternoon.

And even when it's closing time.

She arrives with a hopeful smile, then leaves feeling dejected and upset.

Maybe even angry.

Mister Fu asks her what's wrong.

"I found a stray kitty, and I think he ran away."

.

.

It's two weeks when she finally decides to get over it.

Marinette takes the notebook, a poorly-written _**#5**_ on its cover, and decides to throw it away.

She's two steps away from the trash can when she realizes that she can't get rid of it at all.

.

.

A month later, Marinette's taken a job at _Fu's Bookstore_.

It's a lazy Sunday, and she leans her head on the desk in front of her— eyes almost closing from how quiet it is.

Until the jingle of the door opening effectively wakes her up from her nap.

She rubs her eyes as the stranger walks up to her.

"Hi, I'm looking for this specific book and I just can't find it where I used to, so…"

"Okay, let me help you out," Marinette remarks, before turning to the desktop. "What's the title?"

"I actually don't know…"

She raises an eyebrow, then nods along. _(Sure, she's gotten customers like this before.)_ "Can you describe what the contents are like, then? Or the design of the cover?"

"It's filled with sketches and some nonsense…"

"Nonsense?" Marinette wrinkles her nose. _What a cruel way to describe a book someone's worked so hard on_.

"I mean—! It's nonsense to everyone else, but not to me. And hopefully not to her either…"

_Now, this is dragging on longer than it should._

"Then just describe the cover, please."

He brightens up. "Yeah! It's this bright red book; _notebook_ , really, with the #5 on it? I know it should be around here somewhere, and I _need_ to find it, I _need_ to find a way to connect with her again…"

"..."

"See, I know it's not a real book, and I'm sorry I just snuck it here, but it's so important to me and…"

Marinette mutters unintelligibly.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear…"

She says it again.

"Can you repeat that?"

A third attempt.

"Please, just one more time—"

Visibly irritated, Marinette grabs a book from under her desk and places it in front of him. The number almost gleams as it's exposed to the light.

"That's exactly it! Thank you—"

"You can't have this."

" _What?"_

"It's my property."

"Look, I know I kept it in your library but…"

"No. _We worked on it together, and you got to keep the last four so it's my turn._ "

"But—

 _Wait_."

He looks up at her, eyes widening in surprise.

"Ladybug?"

She points at her name tag. " _Marinette_ , actually. But hello, Chat. It's been awhile."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been getting some free time but am apparently incapable of writing until it's already 8pm and i have less than five hours to put everything together because my mind can only function with stress :) send Help :))
> 
> anw this was vaguely inspired by dash & lily's book of dares! i always wanted to do this, but i unfortunately dont have any cute homey bookstores nearby; and definitely none that would allow me to pull these stunts in their businesses ;n; so as always— i will live vicariously through my fanfics . :^D
> 
> i also just surpassed my kudos/comments count for my marichat may challenge ? and i still have ~2 weeks left ? thank u so much im so so grateful ! 333 so again, and i mean this w all my heart:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	19. 19 - soulmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Marinette tastes camembert on her mouth, she realizes two things about her soulmate:
> 
> 1\. That he’s probably insanely rich, and, unfortunately;  
> 2\. Has the worst tastebuds known to humankind.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**soulmate**

_it's amazing,  
what baking can do._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**WHEN the all-too-familiar (and altogether unwanted) taste starts to spread from her tongue,** Marinette has to stop herself from visibly screaming.

_Again?_

_The day's barely started and he's eating cheese…_ _**again?** _

She breathes in, irritated, and attempts to swallow the feeling; her face subconsciously morphing into one of complete disgust. Even the smallest _whiff_ of cheese already made her nauseous.

And it's not like she hated it.

(Really, working with a family of bakers, Marinette _loved_ the stuff. Even almost had a phase where everything she made for the bakery were cheese-based treats. But that was only for a day— never for too long, because other flavors needed exploring, other tastes needed to be appreciated, other recipes to create… so she promptly moved on.)

But how much cheese could one person eat in a _day?_

And to top it off, this… _monster_ enjoyed the snack _raw_. He didn't eat it with anything else— not even with fruits or cold cuts or anything else, just the cheese on its own, lonely, self. It's fun, at first, but now Marinette's completely sick of it and wishes more than anything that he'd change up his diet.

 _Connecting with your soulmate is fun_ , they said.

 _You can taste rich cuisines and unique dishes_ , they said.

 _It's going to be a gift for both your mind_ _ **and**_ _tastebuds_ , they said.

Maybe it's true.

For other people.

But for all of Marinette's luck, _of course_ she ends up with a cheese-obsessed weirdo who can't tell what tastes good and what doesn't.

Well, maybe that's not fair.

He eats _salad_ , too.

Marinette cringes, before walking over to the oven to reveal a freshly-baked batch of macarons she'd made earlier that morning.

They smell great.

She takes a bite.

 _This_ is what good food is supposed to taste like.

.

.

Adrien hasn't met his soulmate yet, but he _knows_ that he's in love with her.

As the tastes the sweet flavor burst through his tastebuds, he has to stop himself from salivating.

Nathalie raises an eyebrow at his sudden expression, before Adrien immediately looks down as if he hadn't looked at all.

In front of him is a plate of vegetables, and a glass of water.

_To keep him healthy and fit for his modelling job._

Adrien slowly takes a bite, but barely notices the bland flavor as the taste of macarons crawl inside every corner of his mouth.

He's starting minding his meals a little bit less than usual.

.

.

"So what'd your soulmate have for lunch today?"

"Salad. _And_ cheese. It's like he thinks those are the only two things a person can eat in the world."

"The cheese same as usual, though?"

"Yeah, I finally figured it out. I ate with my aunt, and we had camembert. I've tasted it _enough_ times to know that's what my soulmate's been eating."

"Camembert…?"

"It's this French cheese for rich people? I looked it up. It's _insanely_ expensive for a block of smelly old food."

"Ooooh, so your soulmate must be a rich kid, huh?"

"Not wealthy enough to try new cuisine, apparently."

.

.

"I feel sorry for your soulmate."

"What do you mean?"

"All you eat are salads all the time. I understand that you need to stay fit, but I think you can enjoy yourself every once in a while."

"I told you, I can't. My dad's really strict that I don't gain anything, down to the _smallest_ decimal. It's not like I don't want to."

"I just wish that you'd let yourself go more. You know, there's a whole _world_ of cuisine that you haven't tried before."

"It's okay, I promise. Besides, my soulmate's always eating something sweet. This morning, bread. Earlier this afternoon, macarons. I _love_ when she eats macarons. Sometimes she gets passion fruit-flavored ones, and they're my _absolute favorite_.

"Maybe she bakes it herself?"

"Then she really _is_ my dream girl."

.

.

The exchange of food continues on for a few months.

Adrien continues on his diet, and Marinette continues helping her parents work in the bakery.

Things change after a year, when Adrien's finally permitted to go to public school.

.

.

Marinette brings macarons for everyone.

Madame Bustier had announced earlier on that someone new would begin attending their class, and she figures now is as good a time as any for her to welcome him to the group, in the only way she knows how:

_Through her baking._

She approaches him carefully, still a little wary that his general identifier in the school is known as 'Chloé's friend'; someone who she really _isn't_ all that fond of.

But for the sake of kindness, and giving everyone a fair shot, Marinette offers him one.

"What's this?"

"I, _uh_ , I made some macarons. Thought you'd like to try them… but they're not that great, though."

He looks at her with a look she can't quite decipher, then ever-so-carefully…

 _Takes a bite_.

His eyes don't leave hers.

When the taste of passionfruit spreads from her tongue, her eyes widen.

They both begin to realize it.

" _You're my soulmate?"_

" _ **You're the rich-kid cheese-boy?!"**_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive officially surpassed my entire word count for mc may w like,, 12 more days to spare HAKSDK what can i say……… i love aus !! (& i’m glad you guys r enjoying them too ack woke up to my email alerting me of a ton of reviews and ive been feeling so warm n happy the whole day thank u so so so much ! <333)
> 
> does this count as a crack! fic? while lookin for soulmate inspiration on tumblr i found a prompt that said “you can taste what your soulmate’s tasting” & i was like ,, hM LET’S TRY IT OUT THEN ! i personally think adrien’s diet is rlly strict as a model, so he always enjoys it when he gets to taste dupain-cheng treats (y’all remember that scene in gamer when his dad brought food up & he looked so sad when marinette told him to leave ,, KSKSD)
> 
> i think the writing here could be better n more fleshed-out but work hit me like a truck :> again :>> so we’re out here ½ dying lmaosks ANYWAY -- az usual:
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	20. 20 - fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien has much more in common with Jasmine than he'd care to admit.
> 
> (Or, a retelling of Aladdin if Adrien were a Disney Princess, and Ladybug his Disney Prince.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**fairytale**

_no-one to tell us no or where to go,  
or say we're only dreaming._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**PRINCE Adrien does not want to marry.**

Or, well, _he does_ — but not to some princess he doesn't know; not for the sake of politics and prevention of war; and especially not for a woman who would only marry him for his stature and family.

As corny as it is, Adrien wants to marry for _love_.

But it's not that easy to find someone to love when you're not even allowed to step outside the palace gates.

As if on cue, his father enters his bedroom.

"I assume you've accepted my proposition, Adrien?"

His low voice echoes through the otherwise empty chamber, the tone devoid of almost any love and care a father should have for his own child.

The younger boy only looks down, barely getting up from his bed.

Suddenly, the silks and expensive pillows that he lay on felt so _stiff_.

Cold, even.

"Adrien," his father repeats. "I asked you a question."

He sighs, deciding to try and confront him. _Maybe this time, he'd actually listen._

"Please, father, reconsider. I don't understand why I must marry so soon. And to someone I've never met…"

"We have already discussed this. You must wed Princess Chloé; your marriage will unite our kingdoms and bring prosperity to our family. I'd have thought you'd be over being so stubborn about this."

"I'm not being stubborn! Marrying someone I've never met; and all the more to someone I don't love… _didn't you love mother when you married her?_ "

The look in his father's eyes makes Adrien want to take a step back.

"Do not bring your mother into this."

_But why not? Ever since she's disappeared, you've stopped talking about her, and shut yourself completely… you've become so cold, even to your own son._

Instead, Adrien quiets down.

"I'm sorry."

"Then it's settled. I shall send the Bourgeois Kingdom a letter accepting their proposal for marriage." The king stares at him, as if daring him to speak up. "Do you understand, Adrien?"

" _Yes, father."_

.

.

As soon as his father leaves, Adrien dons on a black cloak— his mother's, from way back when, and carefully starts packing a bag of necessities.

A black panther with stunning green eyes nuzzles close to him.

_Don't leave, Adrien._

He sighs, before hugging the creature close to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Plagg. But I can't continue to live like this. I love my kingdom, and _father_ , even, but I want to be free. There are things I want to experience in this world, and being trapped by my father will never let me do that."

Plagg growls, evidently conflicted, but carefully steps away.

"I'll come back one day, okay?" Adrien smiles softly. "I promise."

.

.

Adrien is stealing. _Apparently_.

He doesn't really understand how currency or paymentworks, having spent his whole life being pampered by life in the palace.

( _Well_ , he's learned about it from his private tutors; but those largely had to do with managing the treasury and ensuring the gold stays within the family. He's never actually had any issues with wealth.)

So when a shopkeeper threatens to chop off his hand as retribution for giving a child an _apple_ , of all things— Adrien realizes two things:

That economic conditions were actually _so_ poor in his kingdom— a stark contrast from the apparent lie the palace advisers had told him, and;

That he was truly too sheltered by his father, not knowing anything at all.

It's when a strange woman suddenly grabs his hand and pulls him away that Adrien's knocked out of his reverie.

She's telling him something around the lines of, _come with me if you want to keep that hand of yours_ , but he barely notices.

Instead he notices the deep bluebell of her eyes, the rosy pink dusted on her cheeks, and her vibrant red cape flowing as they duck into alleyways and abandoned street corners.

Adrien hasn't met many women outside of those in the palace, but he assumes that it's common knowledge that whoever this is— she is absolutely _beautiful_.

She takes him to the highest floor of a run-down old building, barely standing from apparent years of abuse and neglect.

The girl notices him staring in wonder.

"Sorry it's not great," she starts, carefully patting the block next to her. "Things haven't been great for some time now."

"I don't understand," he starts, trying to find the words. "Last time I was here, the kingdom was _flourishing_. And now, people starving, buildings on the verge of collapse, and violent men…"

She laughs. "Now how long has it been since you were last here? And you can't really blame the shopkeeper, you _did_ just take his apple without paying for it. What kind of land did you come from to think that was normal?"

Adrien has the decency to look almost sheepish.

"Let's just say I've been gone awhile," he says instead. "But to think it's changed _this_ much… I have truly missed a lot."

"Well, it wasn't always that bad," she sighs, pulling her legs up to sit down. "You know the king, right? Ever since Queen Emilie died, he just… stopped caring about us. All wealth they kept to their inner circle, leaving us to fend for ourselves." Her eyes narrow. "The people over there don't care about us, and would leave us to die."

_That's a cruel wake-up call._

"That's not true!" Adrien suddenly blurts, earning a confused glance from her. "What about the prince?"

She scoffs. "The _prince?_ Nobody's seen him here in years. He's probably just some entitled brat, living in leisure in the palace while we all suffer here. He's no different."

He wants to protest.

_But how could he?_

If Adrien were in her position, he'd feel no differently from her.

"Is that why you steal?"

"It's hard to make an honest living here," she smiles bitterly. "I've tried selling bread… but it never worked. People will step over everyone else to survive." She looks downward. "I know some orphan kids… scattered around. I've seen them pass out from exhaustion, ignored by everyone here. I know it's wrong to steal, but I— _they're children._ They shouldn't have to suffer like this!"

The pit in Adrien's stomach grows ever-larger.

_How could he have lived so easily, without knowing any of this?_

He feels disgust— with his father, with the greedy men from the palace, and even with _himself_. How could someone who would one day rule over the kingdom not know anything about the realities of the people who lived in it?

"Anyway," she finally sighs. "That's old news. So what's your story, stranger?"

Adrien shrugs. "I ran away. I was just feeling so… _trapped_ , at home. I needed to be free." He pauses, taking in his surroundings— and the mysterious girl sitting next to him. "But I guess freedom wasn't anything like I expected."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. It's hard to come across anything good these days." She says, a far-off look in her eyes. "But one day, I'll get out of here. Travel the world, maybe. Somewhere I can actually _live_ my life, without fearing for it everyday."

"...

 _Would you mind some company?_ "

She looks up at him, her face completely caught off-guard by the sudden question. He looks nervous, and scratches his head. "I mean, I've got nowhere to go either. And maybe I can help out! I don't know how to bake bread, but I could learn, and—"

"I'd love that."

Adrien looks at her, visibly surprised. "Really?"

She smiles. "It would be nice to not be alone for a change. _So_ , you got a name?"

He smiles back. "... you first."

"Around here, they call me—"

" _ **LADYBUG."**_

They both whip their heads up at the sudden intrusion, as a group of soldiers come bursting through the room. The floors shake as they flood the area. _"I finally found you."_

Adrien belatedly recognizes the voice as Madame Sancoeur's— his father's Royal Vizier and consequently, Captain of the Guard.

The stranger— _Ladybug_ — stands, grasping his hand tightly.

She doesn't back down.

"I didn't think you'd show up yourself. A special occasion?"

Sancoeur flinches.

Ladybug raises a curious eyebrow. " _Oh,_ so it is. What happened? The King throw another tantrum? Does he want _more_ money? Because like I said, I'm completely broke. _Like everyone else in this damned kingdom is._ "

"Do _not_ talk about King Gabriel like that. He is a good king, and you would be smart to watch your mouth when biting the hand that feeds you."

" _Feed_ me? I have to fightjust to have a morsel of food on my plate. I don't live as the rest of you do, bathing in wealth while we barely survive. Now go back to your king and your _prince_ and leave me alone."

Both Adrien and Sancoeur freeze at the mention of the prince.

"Oh. So something happened to your prince, then?"

Adrien's never seen his father's vizier look so angry. _"What did you do to him?"_

Ladybug rolls her eyes. "Oh, _please._ Like I'd want anything to do with someone as entitled as him." Suddenly, she squeezes his hand. "Besides, I already have one partner to keep me company."

"Ah, _another_ pest to take care of." Sancoeur only sighs, before snapping her fingers. "Well, that shouldn't be an issue. I've brought a whole army this time. You won't get away."

At that, Ladybug is suddenly grabbed by a burly soldier, holding her so she can't escape. Two others hold Adrien back, separating them.

"I don't need the boy," she only says, turning back toward the exit. "King Agreste only wants Ladybug. But throw him into prison. Anyone who works with her is surely a menace to society."

" _She's not a menace!"_

Sancoeur looks back, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, so the alleycat can talk. Do you even _know_ what she's done? That this woman has been stealing not only her fellow townspeople, but from the soldiers as well? The very people who are protecting you?"

"She's only stealing things to provide for those who can't. There are children, and they're starving. _Dying—_ and she's only trying to save them." He struggles against the arms holding him captive. "If you would only listen, _Nathalie!"_

The vizier pauses. Then: _"Let him go."_

Almost reluctantly, they do.

Then, Sancoeur walks forward, with terrifying speed and precision, before whipping the hood off his head. _"Prince Adrien,"_ she finally says, eyes widening with shock. "So it's true? Ladybug really _did_ take you?"

"No!"

He shakes his head. "Ladybug has done nothing. So let her go, _now._ As the Prince, I order you…"

She only ignores him, then snaps her fingers.

Two pairs of arms come to grab his own, again.

"Nathalie, _what are you doing?_ "

She turns back, then sighs. "I'm sorry, Adrien. You gave me no choice." Sancoeur gives the two soldiers a brief glance, her eyes almost flashing with concern— but disappearing so quickly it's almost like he had imagined it. "Return the Prince to his chambers. I will deal with him later." Then, she turns to Ladybug; who had been eerily quiet since the exchange.

"Ladybug comes with me."

" _Wait!"_ He starts, struggling to find the words. "Ladybug… I—"

The look she gives him is almost unreadable. Ladybug doesn't fight back; doesn't even struggle. She doesn't even turn back to him, not even for a glance, and walks away.

.

.

"Let's make an agreement. I'll give you all the riches you desire, enough to start a new life outside of this kingdom, if you do me _one small favor_."

"What do you want?"

"A simple thing. There's a cave, not so far from here. I've gotten old, and can't get it for myself but… I need a lamp."

"A lamp…?"

"Isn't it so simple? Retrieve this single item for me, and I will let you go. Is it agreed? Do we have a deal?"

Ladybug looks up at King Agreste, quiet.

Then:

" _Where do I go?"_

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aladdin is one of my favorite disney films so yes i definitely had to do that rendition as a fairytale of choice3 also the parallels between adrien and jasmine fundamentally being rich kids with limited freedom bc of their family (and also a shared love of cats?) — they r the same person ! aladdin is much more chaotic good than marinette is, but o well i think it still works out okay in the story :^)
> 
> anw i meant to summarize the whole fic in this chapter but have gotten carried away As Always and ended up w 6 pages while just barely starting the story . kskdk so would you guys like to read more ? (day 22 is disney so if enough ppl are interested ,, maybe aladdin pt 2 in marinette's pov hskdjks)
> 
> also if yall r interested in aladdin retellings i would highly recommend twisted, which is basically a satirical parody of aladdin but in the pov of jafar ! it's also a musical and by starkid which im kinda obsessed with so : check them out if you'd like ! but yes—
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	21. 21 - circus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien realizes it’s incredibly easy to fall when there’s a beautiful trapeze artist available to catch you.
> 
> (or, a close-enough shadow of a ‘greatest showman’ au.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**circus**

_all i want is to fly with you,  
all i want is to fall with you._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**WHEN Nino suggests that Adrien invest in the circus, he is, understandably, hesitant.**

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea long-term, Nino," he starts, a hesitant expression on his face. "Does anyone even go to circuses anymore? Father's really counting on me to expand our business venture, and I can't take any risks that would disappoint him."

Nino only shakes his head, putting a carefree arm around his best friend's shoulders, and pulling him closer. "Dude, you weren't there. I thought I'd hate it, but I was _so_ wrong. Their performances were almost… _magical_."

Adrien only laughs. "Magical? I've never heard you use such… _romantic_ words."

A playful bump on the shoulder. "Shut up, man," he only responds, an unimpressed expression on his face. "Look," Nino starts, retrieving a ticket from his pocket. "They have a show tonight. Alya couldn't go, so I have an extra ticket. I really think you should check it out."

"And if I don't?"

Nino shrugs. "It's your loss. Besides, it's just onenight. What do you have to lose?"

.

.

It's called the _Miraculous Circus._

Adrien thinks it's a corny name, but ultimately decides to continue on anyway. After all, he's driven almost an hour to get there, and it is, frankly, a waste of a ticket.

(Though the ticket itself doesn't cost a lot— which doesn't do much to heighten his expectations for what he's about to see.

 _Why is he doing this again?_ )

The ticket line is unsurprisingly small. Outside of a few kids and their families, Adrien starkly feels like an outsider in his absurdly overly-formal business suit and lack of company. He's only too glad that the line moves quickly, allowing him to take a seat at the very back of the tent.

An old man, almost struggling to walk with his cane, enters.

Adrien's first instinct is to run down and help him out.

_Is he the ringmaster of this whole affair?_

The stranger coughs, then speaks with surprising strength, his clear voice echoing throughout the stands. "Welcome to the Miraculous Circus, everyone! We are extremely happy to have you here." He scans the audience, then smiles. (Adrien almost thinks they make eye contact, as he winks. _Maybe he imagined it?_ ) "My name is Master Fu, and I've been lucky enough to work and become a family with this amazingly _talented_ group of performers. But that's enough with introductions."

Master Fu's eyes shine, then to Adrien's complete surprise, throws up his cane.

The curtains open as he does so, and he watches with surprise as the ringmaster moves with surprising agility and grace, to introduce the show.

" _Now for something truly magical."_

.

.

 _Magical_ isn't enough to describe what took place before him.

From the horse tamer who seems to transport from place-to-place in mere seconds, to the monkey-like acrobat who can contort and move his body in ways one could never imagine, to the fox-like magician who creates illusions from smoke, Adrien found himself _completely_ enamored with the performance.

He was confident that Nino was making a big deal out of nothing.

As it turns out, Nino wasn't making enough of a big deal at all.

It's almost two hours of pure magic, when Master Fu announces their final act.

Adrien thinks he's seen it all, and that nothing could quite top what he's watched already.

As the day has proven, however, Adrien, in fact, gets many things wrong.

Which is all-too-clear when the final performer walks upon the stage, dressed in a vibrant red outfit that seems to draw everyone's attention. She also wears a mask upon her head— the same color as her clothes, with a fanciful black feather decorating the top.

It's no different from the rest of the performers, who also wear masks, but Adrien finds himself deeply wishing that she would take it off; to see her more clearly.

The woman— _Ladybug_ , Master Fu calls her— is a trapeze artist. She carefully stands upon the edge, almost nervous, before she takes a deep breath in. Then, her expression makes a complete switch.

A confident smile upon her face, Ladybug simply takes a step forward, holds on to the ring, then let's go.

_And she's flying._

With ease, Ladybug jumps and moves her body in a way that Adrien can only describe as mesmerizing. She looks almost _at home_ in the air, as if she were born with wings— navigating through the sky with evident ease and comfort.

Adrien doesn't blink for a moment.

Scared that he'll miss something, carving every moment he sees of her in his head.

For a moment, she swings his way, and he _swears_ that they make eye contact.

Swears that he sees the playful look in her eye, and her lips curved upward with the tiniest sliver of a smile.

She swings back just as quickly, but it's in that moment of split-second electricity Adrien becomes settled on his decision:

_He's going to invest into a circus._

.

.

It's a _challenge_ , at the very least, to convince his father that working with the circus is a good idea.

But after hours of negotiations (mostly on Adrien's part) and the promise that this is a good investment— where he'll take _all_ responsibility should it fail or even be worth even the smallest fraction less than what he told him it'd become, Gabriel Agreste finally relents.

And it's been a long time since Adrien's been so happy about anything at all.

After speaking with Master Fu, the arrangement is set.

He's to start working with them the following day.

.

.

Adrien meets the performers the week after.

They all use their stage names in introducing themselves to him, something Master Fu had warned him of in advance— a lot of the performers had identities they'd prefer to keep secret, and this sense of anonymity was much respected within their community. Unlike in common society, asking for someone's name there is to ask for them to share their deepest parts of themselves to the other person.

_Rena Rouge, Viperion, Carapace, Queen Bee…_

"So, what's your name?"

After a moment of thought, he smiles. "Chat Noir."

Adrien fits right in with them.

He asks for Ladybug, and Master Fu tells him she's the most mysterious one of them all; only showing up when she's due to performance, and never any longer.

The hours seem to take _forever_ while he's waiting for her to show up.

.

.

She arrives at the act before hers, already fully-dressed in her costume and makeup.

They only have a few minutes to talk, maybe even less so, but Adrien's determined and makes it a point to introduce himself.

"Ladybug, right?"

"Ah, you must be Master Fu's new _business partner_?" She says the words a little too dryly, maybe even almost unimpressed, but he decides to shake it off and push forward.

"Yes. We're working together, and I'll make sure to bring this circus to new heights—"

(He hopes Ladybug gets the pun. It's either that she does not, or that she chose to ignore it completely. With the unimpressed expression on her face, Adrien assumes it's the latter.)

She turns to him. "Look, I'm not sure why you're here, but leave us alone, okay? Miraculous is a _family_ , and my home." Her glare turns sharp. "And I'll destroy anyone who tries to take that away from me."

Her tone indicates that she's done talking, but he, understandably, isn't.

"I think we have a misunderstanding," he tries speaking up. "I'm not trying to take the circus or anything, I just want to help it grow— to have more people experience the _magic_ that I experienced while watching everyone here," he pauses. " _You_ , especially."

A smile teases the edge of her lips.

"So I take it you enjoyed my performance?"

"Enjoyed wouldn't be a strong enough word to describe how it made me feel."

Ladybug leans closer to him, and he can feel himself explode into a shade of red he never thought possible.

When their lips are only centimeters apart, she smirks.

"Sorry, I'm only interested in performers." She looks down at his tuxedo and business-casual suit. "Someone more… _fun_."

Vaguely, Adrien registers the voice of Master Fu calling Marinette to the stage.

She smiles.

"See you around, _kitty_."

.

.

The next day, Adrien goes around asking different performers if they could teach him some of their tricks.

Ladybug watches from the sidelines, evidently entertained.

_He's a bit cute, actually._

.

.

After a few weeks of almost choking on knives, getting bitten by a lion, and burning himself, Adrien tries out his last and final circus activity.

To both his and Ladybug's surprise (though it's more to her absolute _horror_ ), Chat Noir has an innate talent with doing trapeze work.

Master Fu announces that she start teaching him the ropes. (Chat Noir looks hopefully at his now-partner, because _the ropes, haha get it because that's what we mostly work with_ , but is only met with a flat look.)

"Alright then. If we're doing this, then we're doing this properly, got it?"

"Yes, milady. The two of us together will make a _meow_ velous _purr_ formance."

She rolls her eyes, but can't quite hide the smile on her face, either.

.

.

Chat Noir adjusts his earpiece.

"Can you hear me, bugaboo?"

"That depends, what are you going to tell me?"

"Hmm… well I guess, _don't worry._ "

"What do you mean?"

"I won't let you fall."

"You _bet_ you won't let me fall, we've practiced this routine enough times that…"

" _Because the only time you'll fall is when you fall for me._ "

"..."

"Ladybug?"

"..."

"Aw, didn't your heart _jump_ for joy when I said that?"

"You really are corny, aren't you?"

"But you love it anyway."

" _Maybe I do."_

"Wait, Ladybug… what did you—"

" **Now let's introduce our final act! The one you've all, and even I have been anxiously waiting for…"**

"I couldn't hear it properly through the headset. _Ladybug_ , tell me what you said…"

"Get the routine down perfectly tonight, and I'll say it again. So, are you sure you're ready for this, alleycat?"

Adrien smiles.

" _Paw_ sitive."

" **... the debut performance of Ladybug and Chat Noir!"**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl when i think of the circus i think of clowns and therefore of clownery as in how i act when i try getting into relationships with people who clearly don’t care about me at all ;u; did this become too personal ? Yes . do i care ? mAybe but i think y’all are getting used to my overly-chatty author’s notes at this point :^))
> 
> but really this was fun to write ! it’s loosely based on greatest showman (a terrible movie, but a stellar musical), but written really terribly from the pov of someone who has no idea how trapeze artists actually work. :-) anw i hope you still enjoyed it !! pt2 of aladdin tomorrow so look forward to that hahshs<3
> 
> (this fic is also dedicated to uchi for being the best clown ik :>> here’s to Manifesting an irl chat noir to fall in love with us asfks) but yes!


	22. 22 - disney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug has more in common with Robin Hood than Aladdin, and becomes the unwilling Disney Prince to Adrien’s dream Disney Princess film.
> 
> (second part of day 20: fairytale, the aladdin au)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**disney**

_don't sit there buggy-eyed,  
i'm here to answer all your midday prayers._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**LADYBUG is strangely silent as Captain Sancoeur brings her to the prison chamber.**

Even the soldiers are wary as they push her forward, wary of the fact that she may be planning a sudden or daring escape at any moment.

Escape, however, is the least of her worries.

Instead, all her worries go to the blonde-haired, starry-eyed young man who had just moments ago proposed to run away with her.

The man she, for all her cautionary and naturally distrustful character, had not only accepted, but actually found herself _excited_ for.

The man who, of all things, turned out to be the _prince_ of this damned kingdom.

(Maybe it serves her right, that the one time she thinks with her heart, she loses everything.)

She's pushed forward to go down a flight of stairs.

Ladybug only realizes a little too late that this isn't the way to the prison cells she's been accustomed to.

Instead, she's led to a dark and hidden chamber and thrown down to the floor, hands still bound together.

When she looks up, she comes face-to-face with the person she's resented for years.

King Agreste smiles, leaning down to face her directly.

"It's very kind of you to meet with me today, Ladybug."

She only glares.

"I have a proposal for you. Shall we begin negotiations?"

.

.

As cruel as it may be, Ladybug has long since stopped believing in the existence of fairytales.

When the entire world is against you, so-much-so that you can only really depend on yourself, it's hard to think that a magical entity exists to solve your problems.

Not when there are children starving and dying in the streets.

Not when men resort to violence when not obeyed.

Not when she's wished night after night, on the godforsaken star for things to change; to get _better_ , when things only ever got that much worse.

(Why spend your time on a pipe dream that will never come true?)

So when King Agreste tells her of a magical cave; one that has riches and treasures beyond imagination, of supernatural and otherworldly items that can make even the impossible _real_ , her first response is one of pure skepticism.

And to some extent: ' _Ah, so the king truly did become crazy after the queen died. What a tragic love story._ '

But then, he promises her freedom.

The freedom she's craved for _years_ , the chance to travel the world and no longer have to fear for her own life. The wealth that would not only let her sustain herself, but the children who have nowhere else left to turn.

_If not for herself, at the very least, for them._

"Just get me this one lamp, and I promise to return to you all the riches and freedom you desire. I just need _that lamp_."

"What's so special about it?"

"Retrieve me that lamp, and I can promise the return of our kingdom to a Golden Age; including the protection of those _street rats_ you call family."

"..."

"Then, shall I send you on your way?"

.

.

King Agreste waits outside for him.

It is only the two of them who make their way to the desert, after the royal's insistence that the mission stay a secret. _To ensure that nobody else dare take the treasures._

(Ladybug reminds herself of the selfishness and greedy nature of such leaders.)

_How she wishes he were no longer king._

The question of whether or not she wanted the prince to take over, however, was one she decided not to think too deeply.

Besides, she's much too distracted upon her entrance into the cave.

Even the wealth of the palace could not compare to the sheer treasury that displayed itself as she continues to walk forward.

_Rare jewels, silver coins, and gold that seemed to drop even from the ceilings..._

This would be enough to feed a whole country, much less an entire kingdom.

However, she recalls King Agreste's words. "Take the lamp, first, and return it to me. After, feel free to take all the riches and gold that you desire. _The cave is yours for the taking_."

.

.

Perhaps she's the fool for believing him.

To believe a king who had done nothing but cause his people's downfall; to think that he would truly ever consider setting her free and sharing a part of the wealth that he'd been so intent on keeping from the rest of the kingdom.

But Ladybug had assumed that he had at least the _smallest_ sliver of kindness in his heart.

All King Agreste does is prove her wrong when he lets her hand go, leaving her to fall into the depths of the cave to her own demise.

(She's only too fortunate that a _magic carpet_ takes a liking to her, ensuring that Ladybug survives.)

"I guess you can't get us out of here, now can you, carpet?"

The mystical piece of fabric makes almost humanlike movements, folding downward as if to say, _"no, sorry."_

Ladybug sighs, before retrieving the lamp she had hidden in her satchel.

"All this for such an old lamp, huh? Lucky for me, I managed to swipe it away without him realizing. Serves that king right, for tricking me." She looks down, eyeing it with sudden curiosity. The lamp doesn't look to be anything special, especially when compared to all the jewelry that surrounded him. "Wonder why he was so obsessed with this…"

Curiously, she rubs at it, as if to remove the dirt and reveal its true worth.

And it does reveal itself:

In the form of a towering red creature, flowing out of the container after years of being left untouched.

It bows to Ladybug, black smoke covering the mythical spirit.

"My name is Tikki, and I am the djinn of this lamp. For having freed me, I grant you three wishes."

The djinn smiles.

"Choose wisely."

.

.

"You're unlike the djinn I've heard from stories."

Tikki looks at her confusingly, as they settle down upon the desert.

"What do you mean?"

"You're… sweet?" Ladybug tries to explain, visibly struggling. "Most genies are typically depicted as cunning and evil, to trick humans into their own undoing." She pauses. "But you helped me escape the cave without using a wish, and you don't seem to hold any ill intent at all."

"Human's depictions of the mythical are often wrong," Tikki only explains. "They fear our power, and therefore often represent us as beasts and the like." The djinn shakes their head. "We never resorted to trickery. Humans are the cause for their own destruction."

Ladybug nods.

_She can see that._

"So, have you thought about your first wish?"

"I want to fix this kingdom. To bring an era of peace and prosperity for the people."

"An admirable goal, but you must wish more clearly. History tells me such idealistic wishes are more prone to do evil rather than good."

She pauses.

_Then, what would be a good step to take in ensuring King Agreste's loss of power?_

(She doesn't want to resort to cruel tactics to lead to his demise. Ladybug would never stoop to his level.)

Her mind races back to a young man, who would likely take the throne should the king be led to his downfall.

Her mind races to the moment their hands touched, to the hopeful smile on his face when speaking to her, and to the promise of a future where they'd both be free of the cages they were trapped in.

_King Adrien._

However, she remains to be unsure of his true intentions.

She's only ever known him for an hour, at most. (A few minutes, at the very least.)

And he not only hadn't known what was going on in his kingdom, but planned to run away as well—

It's hard to trust someone like that.

"Then maybe you should guide him."

Ladybug looks up, evidently surprised by the sudden interruption.

"Sorry. _Djinn_ , remember? Supernatural powers."

"Of course," she nods, though still confused. "But what did you mean by guidance?"

"I don't believe the prince is evil. He just needs someone to guide him to the ways of the world. Maybe you could be that person."

She scoffs. "I doubt a peasant like me could ever come close to such royalty. We only ever met because he was running away. King Agreste will only allow a _princess_ to come near him."

"Do you wish to be a princess?"

Ladybug laughs. "It's only every young girl's dream. Of course I do."

(Or _did_. She has no time for such fantastical wonderings anymore.)

Tikki smiles.

_Wait._

"Then, your wish is my command."

.

.

.

Captain Sancoeur announces her arrival.

"King Agreste, the Princess has arrived."

"The Bourgeois? I've only sent the letter yesterday, to arrive so quickly…"

"No," she suddenly interrupts, before timidly gesturing outside the window.

A grand festival, of sorts, is being thrown outside the palace streets.

In the middle of it all, a mysterious and beautiful woman dressed head-to-toe in a silken garment of red, carried upon a carriage.

The king makes eye contact, and the woman only smiles.

(For some reason, an uncomfortable pit forms at the bottom of his stomach.)

"... who is she?"

"Princess Marinette, and she's come to ask for your son's hand in marriage."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i have once again went ham on storytelling & didnt even get to the part where they meet :^)) so would anyone like this to be a full & separate au ? been getting some comments that it shouldnt just be part 2 and i think itll be fun to write aksksk pls leave comments down below ;n;
> 
> i hope this still counts under the disney prompt coz i basically referred to the original aladdin movie for A Lot (unfortunately w/o abu, iago, or aladybug’s interest in wooing adrimine) lmaosks but yes
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	23. 23 - dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Marinette leaves her sketchbook at the dance studio, she panics. For normal reasons. Not because of her thousands of sketches of the male lead, of course. Definitely not that. _Not at all._
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**dance**

_i just want to hold you,  
and never let you go._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **WHAT'S the big deal?** Just ask Madame Bustier if you can stop by tomorrow, and you can get it then."

It's clear that Alya thinks she's overreacting.

But if anything, Marinette's convinced she's _underreacting_.

"I _need_ my sketchbook, Alya," she tries to explain, waving her hands in the air. "That has all my sketches for my assignment… _(and then some)_. Maybe I should just go back—"

"Oh, no way. It's already late, and the dance studio's closed already, so it'll be pointless to go all the way back now. _Besides_ ," Alya starts, looking at her in slight amusement. "I know you're not panicking because of your art class."

"... what do you mean?"

" _Please,_ Mari," she rolls her eyes. "You can't hide it from me. Whenever I pick you up from class, you're only ever drawing one thing." She pauses for dramatic effect. "Or… _one person._ "

"Ahahahhaha _what are you talking about?_ I'm only there to do my assignment, you know, to draw dancers. I'm not all that picky with who I'm drawing, I'm just there to make sure that my sketches are as realistic and graceful as they can be, and if it _just so happens_ that they're all centralized to one person, it is completely coincidental and means absolutely nothing. Whatsoever. _Not. At. All._ "

Her best friend only shakes her head, a teasing smile glaringly obvious as she drives down the road. "Oh, of course. You having a crush on the guy playing Prince Seigfried for Swan Lake… definitely not. Impossible. Unthinkable. _How dare I even suggest that?_ I'm _so_ sorry for assuming such a thing."

She doesn't look sorry at all.

Alya can feel Marinette's unenthused glare the whole trip back to their apartment.

She laughs.

"Oh _come on_ , you're worrying too much. The chances of your prince finding your thousands of portraits of him are slim to none. So calm down."

_Well, maybe she has a point._

But knowing her luck for these things, she doesn't really keep her hopes up.

.

.

Marinette arrives at the ballet studio at nine in the morning.

Madame Bustier informs her that she'll have her assistant show up early to open the atelier. She apologizes for being unable to be there herself, but she doesn't really mind.

_As long as she gets her sketchbook back._

She sits outside one of the benches, rubbing her hands together carefully to keep warm. It's a few weeks into the winter months, and she found herself wearing too few layers to shield herself from the cold.

A sudden tap on her shoulder.

"Marinette, right? I'm Madame Bustier's assistant."

She freezes. _(Haha, funny, because it's cold, right.)_

"So, I found your sketchbook…"

She slowly turns around.

The premier male dancer of Bustier's Ballerina Company smiles at her, almost awkwardly. His cheeks are dusted a little red, and she can't decide whether it's from the cold or from the whole situation.

(She hopes, with all her heart, it's the former.)

"You're a super talented artist! I especially liked the sketch where I looked like I was about to kiss someone?"

 _Actually_ , freezing to death doesn't sound so bad right now.

.

.

He offers to have her come inside the studio.

(Well, it isn't as much an offer as it is a _demand_ ; after noticing how cold she is outside, he insists on making her a cup of something to warm her up. He even offers his scarf for her to use.

Marinette's still reeling from the realization that she's talking to her sketches in the flesh.)

"So… what would you like?"

_You. A tall, heaping, glass of you._

"I, uh… _sorry_ , what do you have available?"

The ballerina laughs lightly, before sifting through the drawers in the office as he glances over at her. "Well, we have some tea, coffee, hot chocolate…"

They both notice her face light up at the third option.

He's smiling. "So, hot chocolate, then?"

She swallows in a terrible attempt to calm herself down. "Yeah… that'd be nice."

"A sweet tooth, huh?" He muses, evidently amused. "Suits you."

_What's_ _**that** _ _supposed to mean?_

Marinette decides not to dwell on it too long, as he places a warm cup in front of her, sitting across the small table.

He decides to initiate conversation.

"I'm sorry for looking through your sketchbook," he starts, apologetic. "I had no idea who owned it, and I originally only planned to look through the pages for your name, but… I couldn't help myself."

"I… it's okay." She pauses, taking a nervous sip of her hot chocolate. "But, uh, what did you think?" Marinette's horrified to notice that she's stuttering. "About my drawings, I mean... "

"Well, I meant what I said earlier. I think you're _insanely_ talented," he smiles. "And I'm flattered, really. I haven't had anyone draw me like that before."

"Nobody's drawn you before?"

"Not as much as you have."

Marinette almost drops her mug, panicking as she tries to stop her face from exploding into a mess of reds and scarlet.

"I, we, uhm, well, I— you're a super hot, I mean handsome, I _mean!_ An extremely talented ballerina… ballerino… _uh_ , what's the word again?"

She's spiralling, she knows it, but he only serves to look entertained.

"Ballerina is good," he says easily. "And it's Adrien."

"I'm sorry?"

"Adrien," he repeats, then points at himself. "My name? In case you didn't know…" he laughs softly. "In your sketchbook, you kept referring to me in your notes as _Prince_."

Oh, _right_.

She's never so intensely wished to disappear off the face of the earth!

"That's, uh! Because of your role in Swan Lake! _Right_! The Prince, so of course I called you that in my sketchbook… _totally not because I think you actually look like a real prince or anything, haha, definitely not!_ "

Adrien's catlike grin only grows. "Of course," he repeats. "... milady."

Marinette almost falls off her chair.

She wants to disappear, _just the tiniest bit_.

He suddenly walks over to her, the same amused expression on his face.

"So I hope you'll be watching our opening night next weekend?"

"I, _uh_ , I wanted to, but I couldn't get tickets…"

"Well, I actually have a plus one as the lead… and if you're interested, maybe you'd want to come with me?"

"Plus one, so as in, a, _uh_ …"

"It's a front row seat, so you do get the perfect view," Adrien pauses, then winks. _Winks. At her._ "For your posing references, of course."

"I, uh, right, of course."

_What else was she expecting?_

"Then we can have dinner together after."

"Wait."

"I'll pick you up?"

" _Wait."_

"Don't have a carriage fit for a princess, unfortunately, but I will treat you like one."

"... that's a little corny."

"So I'll take that as a yes?"

"... I'd absolutely love to."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short fic inspired by a tumblr prompt because i've been flooded with work again ;n;
> 
> but anw, i've decided to continue the mlb aladdin au after this month's challenge (yaaay)! definitely won't post it immediately after because i want to flesh out the ideas better, but i do hope to post it some time next month, so thank you for the support!<3
> 
> i've also gotten requests to continue other aus here (eg. the royalty kagami-marinette switch & ladynoir enemies au, among others), which was an unexpected surprise! in any case, i'm thinking abt making a poll (or sth?) at the end of the month to see what y'all want to read/see me continue the most? ;u; so yeah if you're interested in that please please tell me! as always:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	24. 24 - cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marinette falls for Adrien the moment he walks into her shop. Whether or not it's because of the curse of love placed upon him, however, is unclear.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**cursed**

_love at first sight's for suckers,  
at least it used to be._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**THE first time Adrien walks into Marinette's shop, she falls in love.** And it's in that split moment she realizes something is wrong.

His smile makes her heart soar, the blush coming up to dust her face completely unprompted. She feels herself become giddy with emotion at seeing him face-to-face, but all Marinette can really think about is one thing:

' _Wow, that's an extremely potent spell'_.

"Someone put a curse on you for love, then?"

The look of relief on his face makes her pause _._ She's surprised by how strongly her heart's beating at his change in expression, not having reacted so strongly to a curse before.

(Which is saying _a lot_ , considering that Marinette regularly deals with cursed magical items and people on a daily basis. Love spells are nothing new, but it's definitely the first time she's encountered something that's affected her so intensely.)

" _Yes_ ," he breathes. "Some young maiden had ambushed me a few days ago and cast a spell upon me, saying something about an unrequited love…"

Marinette laughs softly, before walking over to her shelves to retrieve the necessary items to undo the curse. "As they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; _especially_ in matters of the heart." She carefully picks out a few vials and herbs, before setting them down on the table.

"I never meant to scorn her…," he says, looking down, visibly bothered by the reality that he had _hurt_ someone. Marinette finds it adorable.

Because of the love spell, of course.

"I simply didn't want to lead her on with false hopes of romance." He pauses. "I want to pursue a relationship with someone I truly love."

"Maybe I could be that person."

They both look up. Marinette; the more surprised between the two of them.

"Sorry, the curse is rather powerful. Forgive my boldness."

He looks caught off-guard, and she'd daresay claim that his cheeks were turning somewhat red as well. _Adorable._

"I, uh," he nervously adjusts his collar, then coughs into his hand. "Of course. This curse is quite a handful to deal with. Do you have customers, uh, _like me_ , that often?"

Marinette hums. "Mhm. Love spells are quite common these days," she muses, before beginning to put the ingredients into a large pot. "Especially with the Festival of Saint Valentine coming soon. Many novice witches and sorcerers chanting spells they have absolutely no business handling, and for such _selfish_ reasons... ," she pauses thoughtfully. "It's no wonder their spells go awry."

"Is that what happened to me?"

She nods. "The young maiden who cursed you likely wanted you to fall in love with her— though it did backfire to have everyone fall for you instead. Had she done the spell correctly, fixing this wouldn't be so easy." Marinette notices her customer shudder, then laughs lightly. "Not to worry, even the most experienced mages have difficulty conjuring such a curse." She stares at him directly, a hint of a smile teasing the edge of her lips as a heart-shaped puff of smoke escapes her concoction.

" _Love is the most powerful magic in the world, after all."_

He looks absolutely flustered.

Putting the potion into a small container, Marinette hands it over to him. "Drink this before you go to bed, and the spell should wear off by the time you wake up the next day.

"... thank you." He starts, handing her a few gold coins before turning back to the exit.

Something in Marinette's veins— the effects of the spell, maybe (but it feels _much_ deeper than that), tells her to call after him.

"Not to be so forward, but I would appreciate knowing the name of the man I've fallen in love with."

She can see him almost drop the vial.

He turns back, a graceful flush of red taking over his features.

"I, _uhm_ , I'm—!" He looks absolutely mortified, but manages to stutter the words out. "Adrien. I'm _Adrien_. I'm a visitor from the neighboring kingdom, because I've been told of your mastery with curse-breaking…"

"So you went all the way to our kingdom for me? I'm flattered."

" _Well…!"_

Marinette's laughing, face bright.

"It's great to meet you, Adrien. I do hope that you visit again, though hopefully without a curse this time around." She doesn't know what makes her do it, because in any other circumstances she absolutely _wouldn't_ , but Marinette winks. "I would like to fall for you properly, the next time around."

He's entirely speechless by the time she's done talking, only nervously muttering incoherently as he makes over-the-top gestures with his hands.

_Cute._

Adrien bumps into the door on his way out.

"I, uh, ah, uhm… _thanks a lot_ , then, _bye_!"

.

.

When Marinette wakes up in the morning, her first realization is that she's experiencing a pretty severe bout of complete and absolute _embarrassment_.

Memories of her so openly flirting with a man, much less one that she had only just met, begins haunts every crevice of her mind. _She's not that bold? She's not the forward type,_ _ **especially**_ _when it comes to romance? How strong was that damned love spell, to drastically change her character like that?!_

And to experience a complete three-sixty in personality because of a _**man**_? (No matter how adorable and borderline-perfect that man may be…)

Marinette's second, and admittedly belated, realization is that her head remains to be full of thoughts of Adrien Agreste.

Specifically, thoughts of meeting him again as they both run away into the sunset together.

Even the mere thought of him makes her face explode into a shade of crimson she never thought possible to bloom on a human.

_So he forgot to take the potion, then._

If she's still in love with him, after all, then it must mean the curse is still active.

It's the only logical reason, after all.

Why else would she continue to think about him?

_Oh well, maybe he'll remember again tomorrow._

(And maybe the panic over his thoughts of her will disappear, too.)

But when another day passes, then a week, then two, without any change in her feelings…

Marinette makes another, albeit much more _panicked_ , realization that maybe he had taken the vial after all.

And if the spell is broken, while she's still thinking of him (in increasingly more and more romantic scenarios)…

_**Oh.** _

_**Well, that's not good.** _

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg this is the first fic i actually finished early for this month! without staying up and posting at 11pm like the procrastinator i truly am! i love this energy! this was also super fun to write and being able to actually expound on my ideas the way i want to bc i still have time,, i love that. hopefully gonna keep that energy the rest of august!<3
> 
> anw this was fun to write! blushy adrien and flirty marinette are always a nice change of pace to write (i hope the explanation was clear that mari was only like that coz of the potion asksk she is still A Mess on a normal day). also... a week left until this challenge is done ? dang im kinda gonna miss posting here ,, but i do hope you'll continue to support me with other fics in the future! *ahem* aladdin au *ahem* ,, AS ALWAYS:
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	25. 25 - pen pal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Nino suggests that he send emojis to Marinette's pen pal account as a way of flirting, Adrien really has no other choice but to step in and help him out.
> 
> (And if that means making the messages himself, then so be it.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**pen pal**

_signed, sealed, delivered,  
i'm yours!_

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **DUDE, can't I just send some fire emojis and be done with it?"**

Adrien's look of horror tells Nino everything he needs to know.

"No way," he starts, shaking his head. "This is _Marinette_ ; send her that and you might as well just have flushed all your chances down the drain."

"But shouldn't I be myself?"

His best friend's stare is deadpan. "Nino, you're the coolest guy I know and you know I absolutely support you, but…," Adrien puts a hand on his shoulder. "You have no idea how to deal with women."

Nino rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. And you do?"

"Hey! A lot of girls like me!"

"Yeah, and you don't even _talk_ to any of them. I even started feeling bad for Chloé, with how bad you were friendzoning her before."

Adrien huffs, but can't quite rebut his statement, either. "It's not my fault! All the girls who have a crush on me don't even know me, and I can't fall for that kind of person."

"Ah yes, Adrien Agreste, the _hopeless romantic_."

"Shut up," he argues, punching his friend in the arm. "It's rare to find girls that I can just be friends with because they want to date me." (Nino coughs _'cocky'_ into his hand, but Adrien pointedly decides to ignore it.) "Which is _why_ Marinette is so special— and why just texting her a bunch of random emojis just isn't going to cut it."

Nino pauses briefly. "You really care about her, huh?"

"Of course I do!" Adrien says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. (And maybe it is to him, to so easily care about his closest girl friend— emphasis on the _space_ , as if they've known each other their entire lives.) "And I'm glad that out of everyone she could end up with, it's with my best bro of all time."

"Yeah…"

"Come on, don't feel so down!" He starts to say, patting him on the back. "I've seen the way Marinette looks at you, there's _definitely_ something going on there."

Adrien remembers how often he'd see Marinette side-eyeing the two of them, or throwing not-so-secret glances whenever she thinks they don't notice. Besides being a novice at romance, he knows that look.

A longing look, a fond expression…

All the shoujo mangas and romcoms he's seen point to the exact same thing:

That Marinette Dupain-Cheng is very clearly in love with whoever she's looking at.

And clearly, she's staring at his best friend, Nino Lahiffe.

_Clearly._

(Because who else could he be staring at?)

"Do you really think so, dude?"

He nods solemnly. "Swear on it." It's nice to see Nino brighten up at his statement. "Now give me your phone."

"What? Why?"

"Because if you're going to start doing this virtual penpal thing with her, you have to make sure your first message isn't one she's just going to ignore. So nothing you'd… usually send." He looks through Marinette's penpal email curiously. "How'd you hear about this anyway?"

"Alya told me. Pretty neat, huh?" Nino says, smiling. "I honestly didn't think she'd tell me anything, but I said someone wanted to connect with Marinette because he, uh, _likes her_ , and we shared a glance. You know? I think she knows what's up."

"Of course she knows. You're not that subtle, either." A punch in the arm. _"Hey!"_ (He deserves it.)

"But yeah, she told me Marinette's account and said _'Tell him that I said good luck. And that I know Mari's going to love this._ ' I'm not sure why she didn't just tell me directly, but it's nice of her."

"That's great! Then we have her on our side, _perfect_." Adrien says, eyes bright. "Alya is Marinette's best friend, and it'll help us out in the long run. Keep talking to her, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Nino says, jokingly saluting to him. "I don't mind anyway, she's actually a pretty cool girl! We spent the whole night talking yesterday."

"About Marinette?"

"Uh… no _._ We were just talking about life and stuff. And she thinks my emoji game is absolutely _spectacular_."

Adrien sighs. "Well, I know for a fact that Marinette won't. So let me type up the message, yeah?"

"Fine." A pause. "Oh right, forgot to tell you that you need anonymous names to use the app."

"What… like a secret identity or something?" _That's pretty cool._

"Yeah? I mean, it doesn't have to be something you think that hard about. Marinette's alias is Ladybug. Don't know why, though."

(Adrien does. It's because Marinette loves ladybugs and how they're usually seen as a symbol for good luck. If anything, it suits her; with her happy-go-lucky personality and all.)

"Do you have a name already?"

"Nope. So you can make one up if you want." Nino notices Adrien's expression, as if deep in thought. "Got an idea?"

"Maybe I do."

.

.

**LADYBUG,**

That's a fitting name for you. It was by sheer luck that we met, and I've been the luckiest to have known you for the time that followed. My streak of bad luck and bad days ended the day you first smiled at me, and I'm happy to say that since then you've taken over not only my mind, but my heart, too.

("That's corny." "Shut up, Nino.")

As the symbol of good luck, maybe you'll grant me the good fortune of becoming my penpal? I'll truly be unlucky if you don't accept.

From your secret admirer,

Chat Noir.

("Oh, I get it. Because black cats are unlucky, and ladybugs are the opposite so… that's pretty deep of you, bro." "Thanks, bro."

"Now let's just hope she'll respond to it.")

.

.

"Alya Alya _ALYA_ — someone just sent me a penpal letter are you confidentit's him?!"

"Absolutely! Nino was trying to be vague about it, but I just _know_ who he was talking about. I'm a hundred percent confident that it is. I'll bet the Ladyblog on it!"

"But he's in _love_ with me?! He never showed any signs that he felt this way and _ohmygod_ I'm spiralling how is this happening it's probably just a huge misunderstanding and I'm completely reading it wrong why wouldn't he tell me directly and just _penpal_ me instead, like am I not obvious _enough_ with my feelings…"

"Calm down!"

"... sorry."

"He's probably just as nervous as you are. So the guise of anonymity is helping him become more upfront and honest about his feelings."

"Do you really think he likes me?"

"That boy is your soulmate so answer the message or God help me _I will_."

"Fine… but you're absolutely _sure_ it's him?"

"How many times do I have to say yes! I'm absolutely sure!"

"... can you say it just so we're clear?"

"Okay, I promise with _complete certainty_ that 1.) your penpal Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste, and 2.) he is completely, and head over heels in love with you."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rlly said ,, Cliffhanger hskdjs . this is inspired very loosely by the netflix film, 'the half of it'! (though a lot more chaotic and prone to shenanigans for the sole reason that it's the Love Square). i dont think i'll continue this but i'm sure you guys can imagine how it'll go misunderstandings, reveals, dumb thoughts, minor drama, endgame adrinette & djwifi - almost the same as canon ! :^)
> 
> also it's just in this fic that i realized why theyre superhero personas r ladybug and chat noir…. coz ladybugs are symbols of good luck and black cats are for bad luck….. maybe i have a single brain cell & maybe i don't use it that often but ANYWAY HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND !
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	26. 26 - pirate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Marinette runs from life in the palace and ends up a stowaway on the wrong boat— in the very arms of the person she’s been warned all her life to stay away from.
> 
> (But then again, she’d willingly let herself be held in Captain Adrien’s muscular arms any day.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**pirate**

_some of us just want adventures,  
the open-sea wind in our earrings._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**MARINETTE doesn't run away for any particularly deep reason.**

She likes being a princess well enough; to be pampered and taken care of for every little thing. Whatever she wishes for becomes the topmost priority for people to fulfill. Life is convenient and easy, but sometimes to the point that it's _too much so_.

Whether or not it's a good thing, Marinette simply finds life in the palace boring.

More than anything, she wants freedom. She wants to face obstacles and danger. She _craves_ adventure.

(Anything at all to get her out of the gated walls of the palace, if even for a moment.)

So when Marinette overhears her father talking about one of the merchant ships going to the Cesaire Kingdom— she's never been there before, and letters exchanged between her and Princess Alya always make it seem like a _wonderful_ place to go— the occasion becomes both a golden opportunity and a goal:

To sneak out of the castle and _get on that boat_.

(In reality, Marinette can very easily ask her parents to send her to the Kingdom— and they'd be absolutely glad to do so, likely even sending an entire fleet to accompany her; but that'd be too _simple_.

She wants the dramatic adventures of being a stowaway on a ship, moving away to far-off lands and distant places. _But she'll likely take one of Alya's boats when she decides to come back._ )

It's supposed to only be a fun little vacation, after all.

Nothing permanent.

So when Marinette goes down to the seaport and sneaks onto a mysterious boat along the shores, with her kingdom's logo messily draped upon its sails, she expects to be found by kind merchants and jolly villagers who would gladly help on her mini little adventure while on the water.

Instead, however, she gets found by a not-so-nice young man with black hair dyed _gold_ at the tips— something she'd never quite seen before— and is almost manhandled onto the ship's deck.

"Guess what I found crawling inside the hold," he grins, roughly pulling her forward. "A little bug managed to sneak inside without us realizing it."

"A girl?" A tanned boy appears and looks her up and down, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "How the hell did she get in here?"

Marinette's captor shrugs, still holding her by the arm. "Must've done it while we were getting supplies at the… where were we again?"

A messy-haired boy rolls his eyes, half-covered by the bangs upon his face. "The Dupain-Cheng Kingdom. Kim, we were just there like _half an hour ago_."

"Shut up! It's not like I should care about that stuff. You're the cartographer," he suddenly pulls at Marinette, making her wince. "And _I'm_ the muscle."

" _Anyway_ , I don't get why anyone would sneak in here in the first place." The tanned boy speaks again, walking towards her and kneeling down until they're facing each other directly. "Do you have a death wish, little girl?"

Marinette spits in his face, before suddenly thrashing and breaking free of the man's— _Kim's_ — chokehold. She grabs the sword sheathed in his belt, steps back, and panickedly holds the weapon forward.

"Don't come near me!"

Nino wipes at his face with his sleeve, but otherwise seems (strangely) unbothered.

He only smiles. "Do you even know how to use that?"

" _Shut up!_ " Marinette says, frantic, before waving the sword around. "What kind of merchants are you, to handle a woman— to handle _me_ , so roughly… how _**dare**_ you?!"

(She realizes later on how entitled that sounds, but blames it on her royal upbringing.)

"We're not the one who snuck into a pirate's ship, miss. You're the trespasser here."

She splutters. "That's not the point! The fact is that I— _wait._

Did you say _pirate ship_?"

The tanned boy walks forward, and his smile does nothing but unnerve her.

Marinette takes a step back.

"Do you realize the situation you're in, then?"

"No, but I… this is a Dupain-Cheng merchant ship," she starts, barely getting a word out. The pirates seem completely indifferent to the sword she's wielding. They corner her, slowly but surely. "I saw the flag, it's—!"

She looks upward to point, only to belatedly notice that her kingdom's insignia is completely gone, replaced by a black flag with an undoubtedly familiar catlike skull placed upon it.

It's the insignia of every scary story and warning Marinette's ever been told about since she was a child.

She's almost backed up against the door.

"This can't be _his_ ship… not that monster…"

The door suddenly opens, and Marinette's pushed forward.

A young man stands in front of the door— tall, imposing, with dazzling green eyes that seem to pierce directly into her own.

(If this were any other occasion, Marinette would think him attractive.

 _But she recognizes that face from the stories they tell._ )

Devilishly handsome with a mouth always upturned into a smile,  
His appearance is the only beauty from destruction.

Marinette vaguely notices even the pirate men step back suddenly, evidently fearful of their leader.

"Chat Noir."

She manages to say it, her voice barely above a whisper as his smile grows ever-larger.

"So you've heard of me?"

"The black cat… the symbol of despair and destruction to whoever come across you and your party." She pauses, and holds her breath. "They say nobody has seen you directly and lived to tell the tale."

"My reputation precedes me. But I've heard too much about myself."

He kneels in front of her, and forcefully tilts her chin up to face up.

"Now do tell me, how has a ladybug such as you strayed so far from home?"

.

.

"I thought I was going to die right then."

"I do recall you having a flair for the dramatic."

" _Me?_ Do I need to remind you what the entire Seven Seas thinks of you?"

"Ah yes, I remember what you said. _The symbol of destruction and despair_ , am I right? That _nobody has ever seen me and lived_."

Shove.

"Ah, if only the people truly knew that the black cat pirate they were terrified of was actually just a kitty in disguise."

"They will know and believe what they wish. After all, who would guess that the black cat's wife was the lost princess of the Dupain-Cheng Kingdom?"

" _Please_ , I'm much happier leaving Princess Marinette behind."

"Good, she was a spoiled brat."

" _Watch it."_

"And I'm much happier with Ladybug, anyway."

"I am, too."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no long a/n for today coz i'm busy as hell but if you know where the lyrics are from u get so many high fives :>
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	27. 27 - mythology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Plagg wants to destroy the Agreste Kingdom, and Tikki wants nothing more than to save it.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**mythology**

_if god's the game you're playing,  
well, we must get more acquainted._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **TIKKI, I believe I've warned you from meddling in human affairs."**

She barely looks up from her cloud, continuing to peek at the mortal world down below.

"I'm not going to do anything, Wayzz," the goddess mutters offhandedly. "I just like to watch them."

"Really?" The god of Protection muses, tapping at his chin thoughtfully. "If I recall correctly, it was only last week that you meddled with the Bourgeois and Tsurugi families."

"It was a friendly nudge in the right direction," she huffs. "If I hadn't interfered, their kingdoms would have gone to war. I've saved us a lot of trouble in the long run."

"More like ruined my fun," a new god suddenly drawls, dressed in dark garments that starkly contrast the pristine white of the skies.

"Ah, and what are you doing all the way here, Plagg? Got lost on the way to your hovel down under?"

"I've noticed a terrible lack of dead bodies in what I was promised for the month. Spoke to the fates, realized a war had been wiped off history, and came up here to find out why." The god of Destruction spares her a flippant glance, then smirks. "Though I should have figured this little ladybug had something to do with it."

Tikki stands up, visibly irritated. "I thought I told you to stop calling me that," she growls, before pointing at him sharply. "Wayzz, I still don't understand why we still keep him around. All he brings to mortals is pain and sorrow; we should just lock him up and be done with it."

"Or maybe we could lock up the meddler and stop her from messing with history all the time. She's throwing our prophets into disarray and chaos." Plagg grins. "I'd be proud if her actions wouldn't bother my work so much."

The pair of gods turn to glare at each other again, to which Wayzz tiredly rubs at his forehead. How many times will they have the same argument? It's been millennia.

"Now I'm sure you're both aware of the importance to keep balance between gods," he starts saying. "Especially between you two. Life cannot thrive without death; positivity without negativity; good and evil. Whether you two like it or not, you're two sides of the same coin. Creation cannot be without destruction, and the opposite holds true. You are meant to be together."

Tikki rolls her eyes, and Plagg makes a gagging motion.

"Whatever," the god finally says. "As long as she stays in her domain. And as recompense, I'll be starting another war." (He looks absolutely thrilled by it.)

"Between who?"

"Hmm...," Plagg pauses thoughtfully, then smiles; almost sadistic. "The Agreste Kingdom."

"You can't do that!" Tikki says abruptly, before quieting down at Wayzz's serious expression. "Sorry. But the Agrestes are kind and reverent rulers— harming them would bring the gods nothing but disdain and disbelief from the mortal world."

"But we've been kind for too long. The mortals no longer fear us, and it's time we give them a reminder of how powerful we truly are." Plagg says it clearly, and as much as it hurts the other gods to say, he's right.

Wayzz nods. "But why the Agrestes, in particular?"

"They have power and influence. Some have even looked up to their family as gods. For a tragedy to strike them is the perfect reminder that humans are nothing when compared to us."

The three fall silent, as Wayzz contemplates his proposal.

Tikki is clearly against it, but can't say as much. Especially since the matter is largely of her own fault.

After a moment, the god of protection nods.

"You have my permission."

"But Wayzz—!"

"No buts, Tikki. This is only divine retribution; payment for your own mistake." He pauses, then stares Plagg dead in the eye. "But know your limits. Humans are tricky; we do not want their hate and anger, only a reminder of their limited ability. Do too much, and I will intervene."

The god of destruction smiles, then nods. "You've got yourself a deal."

As soon as Plagg leaves, Tikki speaks up.

"You cannot allow him to do this, Wayzz."

"We have no choice. There must be balance, else the whole world descend into chaos. What else would you have me do?"

The goddess pauses, then stares at him with sudden determination.

"Let me intervene."

"How do you mean?"

"You said it yourself, right? There must be balance. In darkness, born light. In gloom, born hope. And in villainy, a hero shall always rise up to fight against it."

"... And who shall you choose as your champion?"

Tikki looks back down at her cloud, to the young woman she'd been watching only moments ago.

Clumsy, but with a golden heart she's confident will always do the right thing.

The ray of light that will save her home's future.

"I know who would fit the role perfectly."

.

.

The news of Queen Emilie's passing strikes not only the Agreste Kingdom, but the entire country.

King Agreste takes a complete turn in personality. He becomes cruel, borderline tyrannical, and retreats to his palace completely.

The townspeople no longer see their ruler, and the kingdom succumbs to ills and wrongdoings.

Plagg hastily collects the souls he's long since promised.

"So what do you think of my masterpiece?" He smiles, carefully watching Tikki's expression for any sense of anger or loss.

They're cloaked, hiding inside the castle as they walk down the hallway.

She seems strangely calm.

It unnerves him.

"What are you so calm for? I'd have thought you'd be fuming by now."

"Your plan for mass destruction will fail. The Agreste Kingdom will survive, and even thrive long after this war."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because good always conquers evil. A hero will bring back the peace you've robbed from them."

He doesn't have to wait another moment for an answer, as a figure in red runs down the empty hallway.

"Who is that?"

Tikki smiles. "A hero."

Then suddenly, she crashes into another body, sending them both tumbling down the floor.

Plagg laughs. "Ha! You really chose such a klutz as your champion? She cannot defeat him."

The smile doesn't leave the goddess' face. She only tilts her head forward, urging him to continue watching.

The other intruder, donned in all-black, scratches his head.

He smiles, offering his hand to the girl.

"You must be my partner. I hope the goddess Tikki has told you about me?"

She takes his hand, then laughs softly, evidently awkward with the whole situation. "I'm sorry for bumping into you, I'd have thought we'd get a more dignified introduction."

"I don't mind," he says easily. "To meet the woman the gods themselves have chosen for me, this isn't anything less than an honour."

She raises her eyebrow. "Do you always flirt with someone you've just met?"

"You're the first," he winks. "And I'm hoping the only." He pulls her up, then bows down. "Now I do believe we have a kingdom to save. Shall we?"

Her smile is bright and determined.

"We shall."

As soon as they leave, Plagg faces the goddess in disbelief. "How did he become your champion?"

She shrugs almost offhandedly, a victorious smile teasing the edge of her lips. "As I said, good conquers evil. A hero will always rise up against the villain. He rose up to the challenge immediately— even without my interference."

"But him?" Plagg repeats. "To have a young man go against his father... I can't quite decide who between us is more evil."

Tikki smirks. "I have no comment about that. But I do play to win."

Plagg looks almost impressed, before offering his hand. "Then, let's see how this will go. I'm looking forward to another epic battle between creation and destruction."

She takes it without hesitation.

Her eyes shimmer, almost with excitement.

"Let's do it."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was FUN :^) i hope y'all enjoyed/got the plot twist in the end w that second hero: yk i couldnt make him a villain their dynamic is just too good:
> 
> also did smth a little different w this prompt by not really focusing on the love square (though im weak and still implied it lmaosks) i hope you still liked it though ! it was a refreshing change of pace to write abt other characters for a change3
> 
> anw five days left until auyeah august is over ? DANG i cant believe i actually got this far while updating consistently omg i stan me hskdsls ,, gonna miss this but w classes coming up- am also ½ so ready for all this to be over hahsd as always !
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	28. 28 - road trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A road trip among almost-lovers always makes for a good adventure.
> 
> (alternatively, Marinette will always be there for Adrien— even if it’s not in the way either of them want it to be.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**road trip**

_but i can't help but drive away from all the mess you made,  
you sent this hurricane now it won't go away._

**.**

**.**

**.**

" **ISN'T owning a Bug a little** _ **too**_ **on the nose for you?"**

Marinette only huffs at the statement, before opening the passenger seat to her car— a Volkswagen Beetle, vibrantly painted red with minor black accents. It really says _Ladybug_ in every sense of the word, but thankfully, most only assume that she's a major fan or that it's purely coincidental. ("Because Marinette can't be that superheroine, of course. She's too _.")

Honestly, she doesn't know whether to feel grateful or insulted by the notion.

(It's fun, though: to see how far she can go without them figuring out her identity.)

Across her, Adrien smiles softly.

He's making jokes now, to Marinette's absolute relief. But it's not as genuine; she can still see the exhaustion under his eyes, the low tilt of his mouth, and the downcast expression his face wears, no matter how desperately he tries to hide it.

Adrien opens the back of the car, throwing in a bag of random necessities— clothes, toiletries, snacks, and whatever else one would haphazardly pack for a last-minute trip for god-knows-how-long.

Marinette already has a pre-packed bag for things in case of emergencies (Hawkmoth may have stopped being active, but it always helps to be prepared), so it doesn't really take much time for her to be ready to leave. She figures they'll be gone for the weekend, _maybe a few more days_ , but guesses that it won't be for long.

(To be sure, though, Marinette leaves her parents a long-winded message that she's going out to Alya's. They've become all but _too_ accustomed to her sudden and unexplainable disappearances, having long since accepted that they aren't privy to their daughter's whole affairs.

They assume she's got a secret boyfriend. She can't explain how intensely she wishes that it were true.)

Whatever the case, however, Marinette only wants to see her partner happy.

 _As friends_ , of course.

They both get in the car, with Marinette taking the driver's seat. She starts the engine, then turns to face him.

"So, where to?"

He shrugs. "I don't really mind where we go," Adrien starts, before sighing softly to himself. "As long as it's anywhere but here."

Marinette only nods, then starts forward.

She doesn't know where she's going, but decides that maybe (for the first time in life), it'd be better to go forward without a plan in mind.

.

.

The call arrived at five in the morning, through Ladybug's phone.

Her first instinct was that it was an akuma attack.

But when she picked up the phone, worried for the citizens of Paris, she steadily realized she should only be worried about _one_ of them.

"Do you remember when we joked about running away together?"

He sounded like he'd been crying.

Marinette nodded, though fully aware that he couldn't see her through the other line.

Adrien didn't mind; he simply continued speaking.

"Maybe I wasn't kidding?"

The line was silent for a moment, before her calm and determined voice flowed through the phone.

"Let's go, then."

.

.

Adrien breaks the silence an hour into the road trip.

"I'm sorry I had you do this for me," he starts, evidently fumbling for the next words to say. "I didn't know who else to call."

"Don't be sorry. You know I'll always be here for you."

He stares at her, maybe for a moment too long, then smiles, almost forlorn.

"I know."

.

.

"My feelings for you haven't changed," Chat Noir began, as they watched the Paris skyline on the balcony. "Ladybug or Marinette… I still love you."

She swallowed down the sudden dryness in her mouth.

"Chat… _Adrien…_ you know I—"

"I know," he smiled at her, then looked back up to the sky. "It's a beautiful view tonight."

.

.

They buy sandwiches at a nearby convenience store and decide to keep driving, as the moon peeks out from the sky.

"Beautiful," Adrien says, as he drives down the winding road.

They've decided to switch seats, allowing Marinette to take a much-needed rest in the passenger seat.

She looks up at him drowsily, rubbing at her eyes.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

He smiles softly, then gestures at the vast amount of greenery before them.

"The trees," he says. "I thought they were beautiful."

She looks at him longingly, then nods.

"They are."

.

.

Marinette still has nightmares about him.

Fighting him, while the rest of Paris— the rest of the _world—_ sinks beneath their feet.

She remembers seeing her own body crumble at a single touch.

The look of insanity and love in his eyes… how the only thing she's ever wanted is transformed into her deepest fears in a single moment.

 _Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady_.

She can't let it happen again.

Not to Paris, not to herself, not to _him_.

It's a risk.

And it's not one she's willing to take.

.

.

They decide to stop at a motel as midnight draws closer.

She insists he sleep on the bed, but he insists that it would be too unprofessional for them to share the bed with each other.

Adrien's not wrong.

It's a few minutes into them turning off the lights when someone speaks up, their voice echoing in the night.

"Are you still having nightmares?"

"The same ones."

"You know it's just a nightmare, right? It never happened."

"But it felt so _real_."

"Adrien, you would never do that to me."

"It wasn't on purpose… I just… I see _flashes_. White claws, your body turning to ash, a flood that ends the world… I was so scared… to lose you, to be the _reason_ you're gone… do you promise it's just my imagination?"

There's a brief pause, and her voice almost sounds unsteady.

"Of course, kitty. I know you'll never hurt me."

"I love you."

"..."

"Good night."

.

.

They go home the next day.

(It's not really a road trip, if anything.)

She drops him off at his apartment.

"Call me if you have nightmares again," Marinette tells him. "I'll never let you be alone."

"I know," he smiles back. "You'll never leave this kitty all alone… not without his lady."

She freezes, then takes a deep breath.

"I'll see you, Chat."

The moment he disappears into the building, she slams the door to her car shut and covers her mouth; a feeble attempt in stopping the torrent of sobs and gasps that wrack her body.

_I love you._

_I love you so, so, much._

_I'm sorry_.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not @ the way i basically ignored the prompt ,, getting Extremely Busy now so i’m sorry if quality is getting worse ): the time ,,,, she’s Gone ,,,,,,,
> 
> this fic was also highly inspired by oh wonder’s ‘drive’. but yea:
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	29. 29 - band

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Adrien really wants to do is enjoy some peace and quiet in his new apartment. His neighbor and his guitar, however, seem to have other plans.
> 
> (Peace and quiet is overrated, anyways.)
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**band**

_i know that we belong,  
you are the music in me._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**ADRIEN gets an apartment in a strangely-named building called** _**Liberty** _ **.**

It's not his first choice, of course; though his current life choices lead him to no other option.

Well, that's not quite fair: Chloé offers to let him stay at Le Grande Paris— _"for free_ ," she explains, _"I'll just have to tell daddy he can't rent the penthouse anymore."_

But the last thing he wants is to depend on someone else after finally getting his freedom, so all Adrien says is "thank you", and declines.

Marinette's kind enough to help him go apartment-hunting, but her quirky and all-around strange (but endearing!) personality leads her to recommend Adrien the strangest buildings and landlords in town.

 _Anarka Couffaine_ , the landlady of Liberty, is no exception.

(The opposite, if anything else.)

She's a huge personality for a woman her age— something that visibly throws him off-balance. Adrien's become all but _too_ used to stiff and strict adults, monitoring his every word and movement to assure that he's at his perfect behavior at all times.

A woman who he can only really describe as _loud_ : from the volume of her voice to her unique sense of clothing and visible love for (over)-accessorizing is not at all something he's used to.

"Welcome to Liberty!" She tells him, bursting with life and energy. "You must be Marinette's friend, then?"

He winces, then smiles awkwardly. "Yeah, it's Adrien Agreste…"

" _Agreste!_ " She says in surprise, eyes widening almost cartoonishly. "You're that young model everyone's obsessed with nowadays, aren't you? I'm not sure why I didn't recognize your face earlier— one of my kids is absolutely _head over heels_ for you."

He laughs, though it's more politeness than anything else. "I'm flattered," he starts, before shaking his head. "And I don't believe I'm as big of a deal as you said I was, but I _did_ work as a model, way back when."

She raises an eyebrow. "Did?"

"It's just… it wasn't my true calling," he fumbles for the right words to say, unsure of how to word it properly ( _especially_ to someone he's only just met). "I wanted the freedom to choose my own path, so I left. Which is kind-of why I'm here, I guess…"

Anarka's smile turns kind, and she pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"A search for freedom, then," she repeats, before grinning brightly. "You've definitely come to the right place! Here in _Liberty_ , our crew is filled with all kinds of individuals trying to find themselves; without the rules or strictness to keep anyone down. To be true to yourself, without any limitations! _That's_ what I want this building to be; a home for those creative souls to fulfill their deepestdesires and potentials."

She continues on for a good minute in a lengthy speech about freedom and discovery, and Adrien's surprised to find himself listening with rapt attention.

_Freedom to find himself?_

That's _exactly_ what he needs.

When she finishes her long spiel, Anarka is greeted with a genuine smile and a hand offered for her to take.

"I'd love to live here, if you'd have me."

She doesn't even hesitate, joyfully taking his arm and giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to have you on-board with us!"

.

.

Adrien doesn't have a lot of things to move in.

And there isn't that much space for things, in the first place.

The apartment is modest, with general provisions for all his basic necessities… _and not much else_. If he had to compare things to his old room, the apartment was only the tiniest bit larger than his personal basketball court— almost _nothing_ compared to the entire third floor he owned back at home.

Yet, even with the small amount of physical space, Adrien has honestly never felt so _free_.

He settles down on the bed, then shuts his eyes.

It's been a tiring day, after all, and all he wants to do is rest.

So, he tries.

Until the unmistakable sound of a guitar _twang_ echoes through the room.

Adrien gets up with a start, only belatedly realizing that the sound isn't coming from his own apartment.

It's coming from the apartment next door.

He tries to ignore it, placing the pillow around his ears to cover the noise.

But the notes keep on coming.

_Twang. Twang. Twaaaaaaang._

Then a few chord progressions, a thoughtful pause, then _twang_ again.

If Adrien cared to listen, he'd realize that the tune isn't all that bad.

But _no_ , he's sleep-deprived and cranky and about ready to fight someone if he doesn't get his eight hours of beauty rest.

(He may not be a model _anymore_ , but he still takes care of his skin and body religiously.)

The sounds suddenly stop, and Adrien heaves a relieved sigh.

_Finally!_

Then, the sound of someone plugging something in. A bump, static, then the unmistakable sound coming from an electric guitar.

_Please, no._

The mysterious neighbor starts playing various notes and melodies, as Adrien helplessly tries to ignore it.

Needless to say, he doesn't get any sleep that night.

.

.

He tries to get in contact with Anarka the next day, but she tells him that she's not around.

Instead, she gets him into contact with his son.

"He usually takes care of business in _Liberty_ while I'm not around," she explains through call. "He's pretty responsible, if I do say so myself. A good kid. So I'll give you his number and— _Jagged, don't you_ _ **dare**_ — I'm sorry, I need to go, but I'll see you around, yeah? Luka's in my office, just knock on the door and he'll let you in— _ohmygod are you SERIOUS_ — I have to go now, bye!"

 _Luka_ _Couffaine_ , then?

He makes a note to remember it.

.

.

Adrien knocks on the door carefully, and after hearing a muffled, _"come in"_ , goes inside.

Only to be greeted by the most handsome man he's ever met.

(Which is saying a lot, because Adrien regularly used to work with models, but he— _he_ is on his own league entirely.)

Casually leaning upon the desk, Luka is definitely the textbook definition of what would one find if they were to search for _attractive male_ on the dictionary. He gives off a completely confident and mature atmosphere, which clashes with Adrien's own more childish and (to some extent) immature vibes. The landlady's son smiles at him, and Adrien can almost _feel_ his cheeks threaten to burst from the sudden heat.

_Is it hot in here, or is it just him?_

_Me._

_The_ _**weather** _ _._

He's spiraling.

"You must be Adrien Agreste, then?" He asks, voice smooth and husky and everything good all at the same time. "Our new tenant."

"Yeah."

_Yeah. How intricate of you, Adrien._

Luka's smile grows wider. "So, adjusting to life here at _Liberty_ okay? It can be hard for newbies the first few weeks," he pauses, then takes a moment to observe the overly-prim-and-proper posture of his conversational partner. "Some, more so than others."

He wants to protest, but can't quite get the words out.

Instead, he gives up.

"I— I have a concern."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"It's about my neighbor."

Luka pauses at the revelation, then smiles at him. "Ah, the one who lives in Room 202."

"Yes!" Adrien responds, almost a little too loudly. "Have you had problems with them before?"

He shrugs offhandedly, the smile still on his face. "He's caused his fair share of issues. What'd he do to you?"

_He._

_So, the musical maniac was a male._

"He won't stop playing! The whole night it was just _twang twang twang_ , and I could barely even get any rest! You know, sleep is important; it ensures the body is prepared for the day and not to mention does absolute _wonders_ for your skin—"

"So he ruined your beauty sleep?"

The younger boy huffs indignantly. "He ruined my _regular_ sleep. I wouldn't mind him practicing in the morning or afternoon, but can he _stop_ playing at night? It's two in the morning and I can still hear that _damned_ melody in my head, like it's not even that good—"

"You don't think it's any good?"

Adrien's visibly thrown off by the sudden interruption. "I'm sorry?"

Luka repeats himself. "The melody? It wasn't good?"

"I, uh, I guess it was okay?" He corrects, unsure. "Speaking from a music theory perspective, the chord progressions blend together well, but it could be improved on…"

"What do you suggest?"

He's surprised to hear the seriousness in Luka's tone. "Uhm… maybe instead of _hmmmhmmmhm_ , he could do _hmmhmmhmhmmm_?" Adrien pauses. "If that makes sense. But that's not my concern, my concern is—"

Luka repeats the tone to himself, then hums thoughtfully. "It does sound better."

"Yeah, but—"

"I need to go," the older boy suddenly says, getting up.

"Wait, but I still have an issue, so if you could…?!"

"Sorry," Luka smiles, turning back from the doorframe. "I'll be sure to relay your issue. But this is important, okay? I'll see you around!"

He almost runs out of the office, leaving Adrien to himself.

_Like mother like son, then?_

.

.

As Adrien readies to go back to sleep, he's ecstatic to find that there's no sound coming from the other apartment.

 _Thank you, Luka Couffaine_.

He climbs to bed, shuts his eyes, then…

_Knock._

Damn it.

Grumbling to himself, Adrien walks toward the door, then almost doubles over as he sees who's at the interest.

"Luka, what are you— I, _is there any issue I can help you with_?"

(Landlord, who?)

He laughs, then nods toward his apartment.

"Can I come in?"

"Uhm, I… _why?_ "

(Rude, rude, why is he being so _rude?_ )

Luka doesn't seem bothered.

Instead, he moves his arm to reveal something Adrien hadn't noticed at the start:

A blue-and-white electric guitar.

_Oh, so he's a guitarist._

_That's pretty attractive._

…

_**Wait.** _

"You're resident 202?!"

Luka nods, a hint of a smile still on his face.

"Yup. And I need your help."

"With _what?_ "

"That melody," he starts casually. "You made it _so much better_. Want to hear?"

 _No, he does not want to hear. He wants the annoying guitar boy to leave his apartment and let him to go to sleep and_ —

_**Oh.** _

_That actually sounds pretty good._

Luka hums along to the guitar, and Adrien pauses.

_He's… not that bad._

Noticing his almost-smitten expression, Luka smiles. "Want to help me out with the rest of the song?"

The words escape Adrien's mouth before he even realizes it.

"Yes."

_Huh._

"Wait… but on _one_ condition."

Luka's eyes are almost smiling with him.

"Name it."

"No practicing in the evening."

"If you practice with me in the afternoon, then sure."

"… fine."

"Great!"

.

.

Working with Luka isn't easy. He's easily-distracted, gets lost in the music, and has a tendency to rely more on his feelings and instincts than objective fact and musical theory.

_But his expressions come to life when he plays, and it's almost mesmerizing._

Adrien belatedly realizes that peace and quiet may be a little too boring, in the first place.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg it's not love square! sorry if this wasn't what any of you wanted but i've been writing adrien & marinette fall in love for an entire month (not to mention w my past and future aus) and im going Insane . (i mean I love them but also ,, no to getting stuck in a rut!)
> 
> will come back to them again tomorrow tho coz I miss them lmasokds . ALSO TO NOTE luka is in a band!! i just forgot that it was the prompt halfway thru bc im a dumbass but he plays music w kitty section!!!!! grrRr braincells gone but aNYWAY :
> 
> thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～


	30. 30 - roommates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five times Chat Noir sneaks into Marinette’s apartment, and the one time he doesn’t have to.
> 
>  **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**roommates**

_promise me you'll stay,  
_ _beyond the sunrise._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**i.**

**MARINETTE doesn't know how he got her address.**

She'd only moved in that day, after a haphazard decision to do so for independence and freedom in her own work. (Though the whole _Ladybug-and-unexplained-disappearances_ thing when living her parents was a huge factor, too.)

Scratch that, it's probably the onlyfactor.

If it weren't for her parents' growing suspicion and concern due to her heroic escapades, Marinette would still choose to stay at home and with them; or at the very least, stay _nearby_.

She had to move a good distance away— a bus ride or so, in order to rationalize with her parents why she had to move out. ("But why do you have to leave?" "Moving would be easier for me to do my work! It cuts down on transportation time a lot.")

_Never mind that as Ladybug, she can move from one side of Paris to another in mere minutes._

The apartment itself is quite modest, with enough space for her to live comfortably (but not much for anything else). Nino, Alya, and Adrien had helped her move in all her stuff, though quite a few were still left untouched inside their boxes.

It's more a reflection of Marinette's need for privacy than their helpfulness as friends, though— since a hefty amount of the items in those containers hold her carefully-curated collection of Adrien Agreste collectibles, limited edition items, and posters.

_So. Many. Posters._

(It's been years, but her crush on him has only grown all the more intensely. She's grown out of her stuttering phase, fortunately, but the butterflies in her stomach don't fade, either.)

Exhaustedly, Marinette lies on her mattress.

They only left an hour ago… _is it okay to miss them this much?_

She's not accustomed to the quiet, especially with the bustling energy of her family and the customers that arrive for their daily dose of caffeine in the early mornings. The lack of aromatic scents of freshly-baked breads and desserts as she lays down is a stark reminder that _she's not home anymore_.

Marinette sighs to herself.

Maybe she's lonely.

Just a little bit.

It's in that exact moment someone comes knocking on her balcony door. The balcony is a good amount smaller than the one she had at home, only really enough for a few plants and one person—

_Or one disguised cat-themed hero._

His smile's bright as she pushes away the curtain and opens the sliding door.

Chat Noir doesn't even wait for a verbal invitation; he walks inside, looking around in wonder.

"Wow, you've already unpacked a lot," he starts, noticing her sewing machine set up on a desk nearby. "You already took it out?"

An eyebrow raised. "Yeah… why?"

"I thought you were setting up your sewing area last," he starts, before absurdly coughing to himself at her suspicious glance. "I _mean_ , considering that it's the only one without a designated space… I thought you'd do everything else first, because it's common sense, right?"

_Hmmm._

"That was the original plan," she finally admits. "But I have commissions to work on, so I decided to keep it there. Temporarily, at the very least." Chat Noir nods, before Marinette gestures at him. "So… how did you find out about here?"

"What do you mean?"

"My apartment?" She asks, leaning upon the door frame. "I don't recall telling you where I was moving."

" _Oh_ …," he pauses, sifting through her boxes. "Uh, _superhero_ , remember? Ladybug and I make it a point to know where everybody is at all times. To protect the citizens of Paris and all that!"

Well, that's not even the _slightest_ bit true, but it's not as if Marinette can rebuff him.

So, she nods in fake understanding instead and shrugs.

"That doesn't explain what you're doing here, though?"

Chat Noir smiles. "I figured that you'd _meow_ ss the company. You moved pretty far from your friends." He sounds almost _sad_ at that revelation, and Marinette almost feels sorry.

(What would he be so sad for? It's not like she moved far away from _him_.

Though she wouldn't really know, if she did.)

"Well, I can't say that I don't appreciate you showing up." She smiles, eyes bright.

It's a sweet moment.

Until:

"You can help me unpack everything else."

(They spend the rest of the night unpacking things, but Marinette _insists_ that one box be left alone. When Chat Noir accidentally sees a peak of an all-too-familiar model's poster flap out from its cover…

he thankfully decides against mentioning it.)

.

.

**ii.**

Chat Noir makes it a point to regularly stop by her apartment.

(Even at times he should be busy and on patrol— though more often than not, Marinette can't find it in herself to be angry at him.)

She still doesn't see her friends and family that often, but being with him, she finds, lessens the loneliness a lot; to the point that she finds herself more fulfilled, if anything.

At first, she figured that he'd get tired of him— seeing him both as Ladybug and Marinette, and _so often_ , but it's the complete opposite. They talk about and do everything together, with her learning so much more about him than she'd ever expected to.

If anything, Chat Noir is good and fun company, even though she'll never admit it to his face.

It's a few months into their arrangement of random meetings when Marinette makes the mistake of going to her apartment straight home as Ladybug.

"… milady? _What are you doing here_?"

She pauses as she reaches for the balcony door, belatedly noticing that Chat Noir follows right after her. He's perched on the balcony railings, staring at her with confusion and almost suspicion.

_Oops._

"Chat?! What are _you_ doing here?" She points at him accusingly, almost stumbling backward. "I thought you said you were going straight home after the akuma!"

"Yeah…," he starts, eyebrows knitting together. "But I always stop by Marinette's to check on her if she's doing okay. She just moved away recently, and I just want to make sure she doesn't feel lonely or sad or anything." He pauses, realizing how his statement may sound. _"I mean_ , speaking as a superhero, you know… I can't risk her getting akumatized! Especially since she's Multimouse and all…"

"That's actually… pretty sweet of you Chat."

He smiles softly, before suddenly narrowing his eyes. "That doesn't explain what _you're_ doing here, though?"

She halts, evidently caught off-guard. "I— _uh_ —"

"Ladybug… visiting Marinette… in her apartment… that means…"

" _Wait_ , don't connect the dots—"

"Marinette's planning a surprise for me!"

"I'm not—

Wait. _What_?"

She's never seen Chat Noir look so excited.

"I _knew_ she was planning something for me! You know, last time I came over, we were talking about birthdays, and I told her it was some time around this month… is that what the two of you were planning all this time? _Ack_ , this is _paw_ sitvely exciting my tails on end!"

Ladybug wonders how he can be so smart but so _dumb_ at the same time.

(Well, whatever the case— it works out well for her.)

Ladybug smiles. "You know I can' tell you that!" Her voice is a notch higher than usual, as she playfully and awkwardly punches his shoulder. " _… pal_! Now go home and let us plan your surprise, okay?"

"Can I get a hint?!"

"Uh. _Cats._ " She stops, almost similar to the way a robot would if they were to malfunction. "Yup. Cats. Like you. Now that's all!"

She pushes at him, before he finally relents and leaves the balcony.

The next day, Chat Noir comes to Marinette's apartment, and sees his surprise:

 _A cat-themed party_.

Marinette looks absolutely exhausted, but seeing Chat Noir's bright smile— she doesn't quite mind it.

"Happy birthday, kitty: however old you are, and whenever your birthday really is!"

They spend the rest of the night celebrating together.

(Adrien's birthday happens a week later, and she's surprised to find out that he wants to spend it treating her out, _just the two of them_. She wonders why he doesn't want a birthday party, and he explains that he already had one— and _nothing_ could top how perfect it was.

They spend the day going around together, and end it as he drops her off at her apartment. Alya and Nino insist it's a date.

Marinette vaguely wonders to herself if it was.)

.

.

**iii.**

Chat Noir stops by when Adrien doesn't.

Marinette rereads the text over and over again:

_I'm so, so, sorry, Mari. My dad's not letting me out until I finish all the work I do. Let's hang out another time, okay? Miss you, Alya, and Nino a lot!_

She sighs, walking over to turn off the oven. The scent of passionfruit macarons makes their way around the apartment, as she carefully puts them into a container. Her outfit, a nicely-fitted red dress— the one Alya calls the _first date dress_ , shines in the room light.

It's a strong inner debate as to whether Marinette should call her friends, but she ultimately decides against it.

(It'd be mean to burst into their lives with last-minute plans, and she especially doesn't want to disappoint them with the news that her dinner-with-Adrien-and-confess-your-love plan had failed spectacularly— before she could even do anything about it.

Marinette figures that she'll just disappoint them later on.)

She raises the container of sweets to her face. "So, what should I do with this…?"

"I'd like to try them."

She almost drops the macarons as a sudden voice bounces off the walls, clutching her heart in evident surprise. "Chat? What the heck, don't _scare_ me like that! How long were you standing there?"

He looks almost sheepish. "A few minutes… I tried knocking, but you seemed so distracted in your thoughts so I just came in." His expression turns concerned. "Are you okay?"

She shrugs. "Just a little upset, but nothing new, really."

"I'm sorry."

Marinette shakes her head. "What are you sorry for? It's not your fault." She sighs to herself, before offering the container to him. "Anyway, do you want to try this? I'm not sure if you'll like it because it's passionfruit, but…"

"Are you kidding me, I _love_ passionfruit! It's my favorite flavor!"

He beams, before quickly taking a bite of the snack, and breathing dreamily to himself. "These taste _amazing_." Then, a pause. "But are you sure I should eat this? Didn't you make it for someone?"

Marinette laughs softly, then walks over to sit on the couch, gesturing for him to come next to him.

"Chat, do you love anyone?"

The question is upfront and straightforward, and he's evidently surprised by it.

After the initial shock, though, he smiles to himself. "Of course I do. She's the _purr_ fect girl, andI think about her a lot more than I should," he says, staring at her for a good moment.

Marinette doesn't know how to describe how his stare makes her feel.

"I love someone too," she finally admits.

The words hang in the air, and Chat Noir doesn't know what to say.

"He's a lucky guy," he finally breathes, a sad look in his eyes.

"You'd think," she laughs to herself, almost bitterly. "But I don't think he feels the same way, or if he ever will."

"What do you mean— who _wouldn't_ fall in love with you?! You're kind, and sweet, and pretty on a regular day but tonight you're absolutely _stunning_ …"

"Haha, thanks kitty," she mutters, before holding on to her dress. "I even dressed up for him today…"

A quiet pause.

"Wait… the guy you were supposed to meet today is the one you're in love with?'

She nods silently. "Adrien Agreste. He's a good friend of mine, it's just that my feelings are something _so much more_ than that…"

Marinette isn't looking at him directly, so she's surprised to notice him abruptly stand up.

"Sorry, I have to go."

"Chat? I'm sorry if this was too much but…"

" _I'll see you around, Marinette_."

It's the lack of a playful nickname that gets her.

Almost frozen, she somehow manages to nod.

And Chat Noir disappears into the night.

.

.

**iv.**

The next time they patrol, Chat Noir tells Ladybug they need to talk.

"Are you sure I can't reveal my true identity to anyone?"

Her answer is instantaneous. "Of course. It's too risky." She pauses, then almost careful: "Why do you ask?"

(Things have become more awkward since the last time Chat Noir went to her apartment; when he just _left_ her without explanation and stopped showing up completely. They still meet as heroes, but it's become much more strained since then.)

He sighs to himself. "It's just… I'm in love." Chat Noir pauses, then immediately backtracks. "Not with you, of course. _Not anymore._ I respect that you love someone else, and I've finally fallen for someone different. And I don't want to reveal too much but… she loves me back."

Marinette feels happy for him, of course, but can't quite explain why her stomach churns uncomfortably at the idea of him being in love with someone else.

"Then, what's the problem?"

He laughs bitterly to himself. "She fell for my civilian identity."

_Oh._

"So you want her to know you're the same person?"

Chat Noir pauses for a moment, as if in thought, then shakes his head. "No," he finally says. "I just want to be sure she loves the _entire_ me, and not just the perfect character I keep up in real life. I want her to fall in love with Chat Noir, too. Because this identity's just as much a part of me as Adr— as my _civilian self_ is."

Silence, again.

"As a superhero and the Guardian, I cannot stress the importance of keeping your identity secret. Even if it is someone you love." He winces, and she presses on. "But as your friend, I want you to be happy, kitty. So, do what you must." She smiles at him. "I know you'll do what's right."

The superhero smiles back, then abruptly gets up.

"Then if you don't mind, milady… I have somewhere to be."

By the time Chat Noir arrives at Marinette's apartment, she's already home.

"What are you doing here, Chat?"

"… for two things. Do you mind if I come in?"

She doesn't exactly willing to do so, but lets him in anyway.

"The first part is an apology." He looks at her, evidently ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry I just left like that back then. I shouldn't have left without an explanation, and it was one of the worst things I've ever done. I'm _so_ sorry."

"As you should be," she only says, before sighing to herself. "And the second part?"

"An explanation."

"Better keep it short."

"I can summarize it in three words."

She looks up at him, suddenly intrigued. "Which is?"

"I love you."

(The dots connect themselves even without Marinette willing them to, and she catches on before Chat Noir even realizes the situation they're in.

 _Knowing about her address, his birthday celebrations, his love for passionfruit, the mysterious person he was in love with_ — _ **is**_ _in love with, and his abrupt disappearance after her confession…_

How did she not realize it before?)

The faces of two people Marinette love dearly start blending into one.

She never knew it would be possible to feel _so much_ for one person.

Marinette starts laughing, tears in her eyes, as everything becomes that much clearer.

She smiles.

"I love you too—

 _Adrien_."

(He almost falls off the balcony.

Fortunately, however— this time there's somebody around to catch him.)

.

.

**v.**

He knocks on the correct door, this time around.

And with him, a ton of boxes and containers that tower almost menacingly around his figure.

"Sorry I had to use this door," he starts. "But my stuff wouldn't fit through the balcony."

Marinette laughs, before putting her hands to fold in front of her chest.

"That's a lot of boxes," she observes. "I don't recall you having that much of a problem with my stuff back then."

"That's because I only stayed the night."

"And now?"

He smiles, then presses a sudden kiss to her lips.

"Hopefully, I'm staying the rest of my life."

She huffs at the sudden surprise, then smiles back softly.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not how they don't become roommates until the very end but aNYWAY ! im sorry ive been ~out of it~ but life is being cruel :-) im trying my best but dont u love it when life still knocks u down ahahaha lol anw dang a little kindness goes a long way i think ;u; so always b kind to people yeah !
> 
> this fic reached 3k words i should be banned from doing monthly challenges i have poor self-control hdksjskscn ,, BUT LAST DAY TOMORROW CAN YALL BELIEVE ? i love this challenge lots but i definitely wont miss the stress of cramming writing along w everything else at the same time hahashahs :^)
> 
> but yeth if u read through this a/n jus remember to take breaks! have time to yourself where you just enjoy babey! i used up my entire weekend working n i feel horrible so learn ur lessons 333 hahahahaha so ::
> 
> _thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～_


	31. 31 - dealer's choice (christmas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The love square and mistletoe shenanigans.  
> (Or four holiday-prompted kisses for the Christmas season.) 
> 
> **my tellonym:** milkisande

**.**

**dealer's choice  
(christmas)**

_i just wanna keep on waiting,  
underneath the mistletoe._

**.**

**.**

**.**

**LADYBUG is the only one he's excited to see again.**

It's understandable though, since he hadn't wanted to go to the Christmas party in the first place. As his father was busy planning for his trip abroad, it had fallen upon Adrien to spend time and speak with adults who really only cared about him because of his family's wealth and stature.

They're all sickly-sweet and overly-kind to him, though it's intensely clear that if he were anything other than an _Agreste_ , they'd never even give him the time of day.

(It's exhausting to spend time with people who don't even really _see_ you, after all.)

The last straw, however, is when he speaks with a particularly snooty lady who corners him to talk about fashion. The conversation is halfway decent, until she brings up the feathered hat in Gabriel Agreste's newest collection— one she says is, verbatim, "the worst thing she's ever seen featured in a runway," and that "it was clear a _high schooler_ was the one who made it."

Adrien surprises both himself and the lady when he answers back.

"Actually," he starts. "That hat is an inspired and unique work that even my _father_ was in awe of. She may only be a high schooler, but her sense of fashion and style has grown so far past that." Adrien looks at his conversational partner's outfit, then pauses. "And that's one thing about her that… not everyone can say about themselves."

The woman splutters, mutters a few words about _disrespect_ and _how his father will hear about this_ , as she almost stomps away from him.

It's weird that he doesn't feel that bad about it.

"You're going to get in _so_ much trouble for that," someone suddenly speaks up, hands haughtily folded in front of her chest. Beside her is another girl, who stands much more calmly but holds the same level of intimidation.

"That _was_ in poor character for you Adrien," she steps in, eyes still the slightest bit wider from surprise. "I had never expected such behavior to come from you," she continues, then slightly tilts her head to her partner. "I mean, I'd expect it from Chloé, but I thought you'd be able to control yourself better."

Ignoring the indignant _'hey!'_ from the blonde, Kagami looks at him in worry. "What did she say to you?"

"Just… she said something wrong," he finally replies. "And I corrected her."

"We're not here to correct people, Adrikins," Chloé points out. "We're here to listen and agree and make sure they still want to work with our parents."

Adrien sighs. _She's right_.

"It's not too late to apologize," Kagami says. "We cannot be any less than the perfect children anyone expects of us."

A brief silence encompasses the three, as the weight of the words crush upon them. It isn't easy being in their position; to always have to watch their behavior, growing up quickly in the elite circles of high society. It's strict and limiting, and Adrien can't imagine not having Chat Noir to let him freely express and be his true self.

He misses staying inside the suit more than he does outside of it.

Or maybe he just misses the girl he sees when he's in the feline's costume.

_He knows what she'd do if she were in his position._

"I stand by what I said," Adrien finally says, somewhat determined. "She said something bad about a friend, and I'm not sorry for protecting her." He pauses, then adds as an afterthought: "It's what _she_ would do."

Kagami looks shocked, but nods slowly. "An honorable choice."

"You're going to regret it," Chloé only says, though he can see the hint of a smile on her face. "But I think your superhero crush would be proud of you for doing it."

As if perfectly on cue, an all-too-familiar figure steps through the entrances of the hallway.

Dressed in her token red suit and mask, Ladybug comes in, an awkward (but bright) smile on her face.

_She looks absolutely beautiful tonight._

(But she always looks beautiful to him— so nothing's really new.)

"Are you a witch or something?" Kagami whispers under her breath. "Your timing is impeccable."

"I have my Ladybug radar on at all times."

"What about your _Ryuuko_ radar?"

Chloé scoffs, then smiles softly. "Is that even a question?"

At that, the two sneak off, likely to some empty hallway to have time for themselves.

Adrien doesn't mind, watching with awe as Ladybug kindly greets all the guests at the party.

(He thanks the lucky stars that Ladybug had accepted Mayor Bourgeois' invitation, even if she only plans on stopping by briefly.)

They gravitate toward each other, as Adrien is the first to spark conversation.

"It's great you're here Ladybug," he says, almost flustered. "I'm a great fan of yours."

"I'm a great fan of yours too— _I mean_ , you're a model! Right? I've seen you on billboards and stuff… you know, _while I'm going around and saving Paris_!"

The fact that _Ladybug_ , of all people, is a fan of his civilian self brings Adrien a rush of joy that he never thought possible.

"You have no idea how much you being a fan of mine means to me."

"Believe me, I feel the same way."

They smile at each other, and enter into pleasant conversation.

She's definitely Adrien's favorite conversational partner by far.

They spend a good hour or so simply talking to each other (much to the envy of the other guests), and Adrien feels as if he's on cloud nine.

It's only when they walk to the beverage table that they are interrupted, as Ladybug accidentally bumps into a vase of greenery, consequently getting some of it in her hair.

Adrien leans in to help her, only belatedly noticing how closely they're standing together as whispers seem to surround the two of them.

Then:

"Mistletoe!" Someone suddenly chants, pointing enthusiastically at the two of them.

The rest of the crowd joins in, as Ladybug panickedly waves her hands to say _'no'_ — though it only serves to intensify the situation. He picks at the red berry upon her head, then smiles softly.

"May I, _milady_?"

She looks at him with wide-eyed surprise, then nods slowly.

Her eyes close, visibly nervous.

And Adrien presses a kiss to her forehead, before picking out the plant in her hair.

He shows it to the rest of the guests, then smiles. "This is actually _holly_ , not mistletoe." Adrien looks almost mischievous, as they dissipate in disappointment.

"Wait… if you knew it was mistletoe, then why did you kiss me?"

He shrugs, the teasing grin still on his face.

"Maybe I just wanted to."

.

.

**ADRIEN comes to pick her up before they go to school.**

It's become a kind of strange tradition between them, for him to stop by the bakery every morning and walk with her to Françoise-Dupont. Ever since he was permitted to go to classes on his own— a freedom _long_ overdue, really— he explains that he's been making the most of it as much as he can.

Her parents don't really mind, after all.

In fact, they think Adrien's a good kid, and it helps that someone else is around to make sure their daughter gets to school on time. Sabine and Tom also think that the two of them are pretty cute together, but decide to keep that little factoid to themselves.

Marinette's late, as per usual, stumbling down into the shop as she's greeted by the sight of her boy friend— emphasis on the _space_ — comfortably leaning upon the counter, talking animatedly with his parents about some random topic about the happenings of the previous day.

(Is it strange that she's already getting used to that sight?)

"Marinette!" He notices her first, brightening up as she awkwardly waves at him. He's snuggly wrapped up in a warm jacket and hat, holding a to-go cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

"Morning, Adrien," she says, before quickly planting a kiss to her parents' cheeks. "Mom, dad."

"What? No kiss for Adrien here?"

Marinette splutters, to the amusement of his family— and even _Adrien_ , who quickly coughs into his hand to hide the laughter that threatens to escape his lips.

She can't even say anything, with Adrien finally taking pity on her and tapping on the chair beside him, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"I was just talking with your parents," he starts. "About your plans for the holidays."

"Yes," her mom chimes in, smiling brightly as she leans onto her father. "You know, poor Adrien here doesn't have any plans for Christmas Eve? Mr. Agreste is only coming back from New York on Christmas Day, and I _can't imagine_ how lonely it's going to be…," she side-eyes her husband, then gently nudges him at his blissfully unaware expression.

" _Ah_ , right!" He coughs, then speaks in an almost overly-dramatic way: "How _sad_ for Adrien, if only there was something we could do for him… if only he had _somewhere_ to spend the day…"

Both of Marinette's parents eye her with sad eyes, as she only rubs tiredly at her forehead.

_Why are her parents like this?_

She takes a side glance to see Adrien, who has a somewhat soft smile on his face. (If anything, he even looks _hopeful_ that she'll say yes.

Which is strange, considering that he can probably spend his Christmas anywhere he so wanted— from all the most lavish Christmas parties and celebrations… maybe she just doesn't understand the rich.

And it's not like she wants to tell him no, either.)

"Are you okay with this?" Marinette finally decides to ask, turning to face him directly.

After years of being friends and spending time together, she's glad to see that her tendency to stutter and stammer (and ultimately _fail_ as a human being) around him has lessened by quite a bit.

But as he sits only a few meters away from her, close enough for her to almost count how many eyelashes he has, she frankly becomes reminded of how _little_ it lessened.

And how her crush on him has only grown exponentially since they first met.

He smiles at her, and she has to physically force down the blush threatening to take over her face.

"Of course I am," he says honestly, maintaining eye contact with her as he leans the slightest bit closer. Marinette can't look away. "There's no place I'd rather be."

She wants to stay in the moment— _really_ , she does— but her parents watching from beside her with the hugest smiles she's ever seen is more than enough to sever the mood.

Coughing awkwardly, she steps back and slings her bag over her shoulder. "That sounds great, then!" She finally says, "Christmas with Adrien Agreste, no big deal, _nope_! I'd love that— I _mean_ , not that I love you but…," she pauses, then sighs in resignation. "Just. We'd love to have you there."

He laughs lightly, then stands up as well, holding the cup with one hand. He bows lightly to her parents. "It's always nice to talk to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."

"Please, just call us mom and dad."

They wink, and Marinette decides against turning back so she doesn't have to see their faces. Instead, she grabs Adrien's hand and pulls him forward.

"Let's go," she says, only belatedly realizing that _ohmygod they're holding hands and they fit so perfectly together do all fingers intertwine and meld this amazingly—?_

They're one foot out the door, when her parents speak up:

" _Ahem_ , Marinette," her mother says, forcing her to turn back.

"What?"

She only smiles, before gesturing for her to look up.

_Oh, you've_ _**got** _ _to be kidding me._

At her exhausted expression, Adrien looks at where she's staring:

Consequently noticing the mistletoe hanging above the bakery door.

"Really?"

Her parents look excited.

"I'm not going to—"

Marinette turns to Adrien, fully expecting him to decline as well: until she sees his awkward (though almost… _excited?_ ) smile.

His fingers tighten their grip around her own, as he looks down at their intertwined hands.

"It's just a harmless tradition," he says quietly, some sound of amusement resounding from his tone. "A little holiday fun?"

She can't speak.

_Is he serious?_

He leans closer, and she closes her eyes in anticipation.

Then she feels the unmistakable touch of someone's warm lips.

_Upon her hand._

Marinette's eyes flutter open, in time for her to see him press a kiss to her knuckles.

"What?" He asks, almost playful. "Did you expect anything else?"

She can't even speak.

(And thankfully doesn't notice the stifled laughter from behind the counter. _Betrayal._ )

"Come on, we're going to be late!"

He tugs her forward, as they disappear outside the bakery.

Marinette doesn't realize that Adrien's still holding her hand until they arrive at François-Dupont.

.

.

**MARINETTE waits for him outside the balcony.**

It's eleven-fifty in the evening as the snow starts to pile up, leaving Marinette to wish she'd put on more layers than her pair of pajamas and a cardigan around her small frame. Her nose is getting red from the cold, but she doesn't quite mind it as much as it should.

Because when she thinks about him, all Marinette can really feel is warmth.

 _Blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that can bring even the sun to shame_ …

She's only distracted from her thoughts as a familiar suit of black starts making its way toward her.

He arrives almost clumsily at her balcony, holding a bright-red box in his hands as he furtively tries to hide it from her attention.

(It doesn't work.)

"Chat," she only says, then rolls her eyes. "You're late."

The first thing he does is bow down to her.

"Yes, and I'm so sorry, but I had some issues at home and—"

"Never mind that," she only says instead. "Do you have it?"

He smiles. "Of course I do," he starts, jokingly saluting at her. "Your local delivery man, _at your service_."

Marinette brightens up almost immediately as the words escape his lips.

"And it's really from him?" She asks, slowly taking the box into her hands.

It's quite small, fitting the palm of her hand, but Marinette knows that whatever's inside— the worth is immeasurable.

She hugs it close to her chest. "I can't believe he got me a Christmas present."

Chat Noir smiles at how excited the girl seems to be. "I— _I know_ he's just really sorry that he couldn't give it to you himself."

"It's fine," Marinette only responds, the soft smile still on her face. "I know that he really wanted to go, and that's more than enough for me."

She recalls how apologetic Adrien had sounded over the phone, after telling her that he couldn't spend Christmas Eve with her family. (If anything, Marinette thought that he sounded more upset than she did about it—

Which is saying _a lot_ , considering that she'd been looking forward to it as soon as he said he'd go.)

She tinkers with the box for a few more moments, then looks up at the superhero.

"Did he tell you what was inside?"

He ponders her question a bit longer than he should have. "Technically, _no_ ," he says, then pauses. "But I do know what it is."

"How do you know?!"

Chat Noir smiles lithely. "Let's just say that Adrien and I are similar in a lot of ways."

Marinette has to stop herself from snorting. " _Please_ ," she laughs lightly. "The two of you couldn't be any more worlds apart."

"... and what do you mean by that?"

"Adrien's the perfect type," she starts, then stops as she notices the superhero's almost _hurt_ expression.

"So I'm not?"

"Nope," Marinette says easily. "But that's what I admire about you. You're imperfect and messy and chaotic, but you love and embrace your flaws, and even _my_ own. It's so easy to be around you."

"Then Adrien is…?"

"He's kind," Marinette says carefully. "He's the kind of boy everyone dreams of, _me included_. But I always wished he'd drop his perfect interior in front of me and show his true self."

"The flawed self?"

"Yes. Because I'm sure I'd still love him just as much."

She smiles absentmindedly, then carefully starts to open the box.

Inside is a locket; gold, with a simple ladybug token hanging upon the chain.

Marinette belatedly notices the simple paper put inside the box:

 _To our Everyday Ladybug_ —

She turns the paper around.

 _And_ _ **my ladybug**_.

Marinette isn't even given a moment to process the information as she looks away from the box, to notice none other than the boy in question standing before her.

Plagg floats next to him, a cautious expression on his face.

"Adrien, I— you— _wait_ …" He tries to make calming gestures with his hand, giving her time to understand what's happening. "This can't be real…? You— are you really… and Plagg… _wait_ , I thought I wasn't supposed to know your true identity…"

He looks absolutely nervous, and can't even get the words out.

Plagg speaks in his place:

"Sorry for the surprise, kid, but Tikki and I talked it over. With you being the guardian and all, it was only a matter of time before you two find out," then he sighs tiredly. "Adrien found out about your true identity by accident. And after that, he's been _insistent_ on being the one to do the reveal."

"I— but— you— I'm— _this is_ —"

The sudden buzz of Marinette's phone informs them that it's midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Marinette," Adrien finally says, voice soft as he takes her hands. "I love you."

He leans closer to her, as she suddenly stops him.

"Wait— but a kiss— it's too soon, and so _out of nowhere_ …"

Adrien pauses thoughtfully, then smiles; almost mischievous.

He retrieves a pen from his pocket, then takes the box from her hands:

The word _'our everyday ladybug'_ is crossed out, as a simple word proudly displays itself in black, bold, lettering.

He holds it above their heads.

 _ **MISTLETOE**_.

"Is this enough of a good reason?"

Marinette can't stop herself from laughing. "You couldn't even _draw_ it?"

"I'm not the artist," he only says. "That's your job."

"Then what's yours?"

"I provide the quality humor and flirting, I think."

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Fine then," Marinette starts, leaning close to him before…

Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"The _cheek_?!"

"You didn't even get _real_ mistletoe. So you don't get the real thing, either."

He _hmph_ s, before his eyes suddenly twinkle. "But if I get real mistletoe, then I'll get a real kiss?"

"As long as it's still Christmas, then _sure_."

"Great," he grins. "Twenty-four hours then."

.

.

**CHAT NOIR looks at her for confirmation.**

The mistletoe stands proudly above the two of them as the purified akuma flies away into the night, easily forgotten by the rest of the Parisians.

All they care about— and all _he_ cares about is the girl held in his embrace, as she looks at him with eyes that he can't at all decipher.

(Or maybe he can: but it's too terrifying to think of what things could be if he were wrong.)

From the background, Alya holds her phone as the scene is livestreamed to all the families and friends celebrating their Christmas together.

He leans in close to her, hesitant, as if asking a question.

The outsiders can't make it out, but he whispers in her ear:

"That's real mistletoe," he points out. Then slowly: "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Ladybug doesn't say yes.

She doesn't say no, either.

Instead, she only smiles, leans forward:

 _Then kisses him_.

Alya drops her phone as she throws her fist in the air, and the quiet chill of the city is instantaneously broken with a series of loud celebratory cheers and cries for celebration.

Everyone calls it one of the greatest Christmas miracles of all time—

And neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir can correct them.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there were too many cute mistletoe prompts so …. why not do ALL OF THEM amirite ,, i thought it'd be fun to end this w a bang too (featuring all sides of the lovesquare !) i also tried to include a lot more of the mlb characters just to make this fic a lot more fun hehe ngl this was insanely fun to write ! :DD
> 
> but after the initial enjoyment, you may then want to ask me, "but milk, why are you doing a christmas-themed fic? it's still august!" and your concerns are absolutely valid ! but the -ber months officially start tomorrow and as a holiday freak MERRY CHRISTMAS BABEY ! :^))
> 
> lmao anw yes outside of my excitement for christmas-THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS FIC ! ily all so so much im so grateful for the support like ? it's always the most amazing thing to wake up to new comments/kudos ;u; i could only rlly describe this month as Stress but all ur engagements made me so much happier than u would ever know tysm ! <333
> 
> i do not need mistletoe i will give u all a virtual kith for all ur support (or hug if youre not into that lmaosksks) ,, but yes for the last time in this challenge !


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